Twisted Fate
I wear these scars on my wrist,
Because they make my twist,
Twist the truth of our fate,
Without a fate we have no end date.
I'm a little tired,
Maybe just expired.
The pushing bodies,
Toddling in the school lobby.
Fingers gracing their loved ones,
Yet here I stand with none.
But I have myself,
Evil stands alone with itself.
Every moment I am one step closer,
Because maybe I'm a loser.
That's what the kids at school chant,
With their nonsense rants.
We wear these scars on our hearts,
Ready to restart.
Restart this life with a smile,
Just wait a while.
+++by anna miller
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LIFE IN POETRY
PoetryDark, cruel & dry-humor. Three adjectives used to describe these poems, following me through my life. If a poem does not make sense, re-read with your mind open. Then if it still does not make sense, read my re-cap of the poem at the end. Enjoy r...
