The memories would come.
The little girl she once was, gone.
The darkness would take over.
The memories would ruin her.
History would reoccur,
In her head.
The memories would hurt.
The flashbacks are intense.
She wouldn't give up.
I won't give up.
Love would overpower.
YOU ARE READING
my poetry
Poetrya little bit of my poetry. not my best. I have never shared it with anybody but my friend.
