Grasping for air as she sinks deeper
Her body is fighting and slowly giving up
She can't fight anymore
Drifting out of sight, no air to be found
The oceans of her worries consume her
As her body drifts to a sleep...
~
She is found, it's too late
They don't cry, their blank faces stare her down
Empty eyes boring into the corpse
They call and there is a ceremony for the death
Solemn faces stare to the ground, no one enjoys this
She wished for them to be happy, but she hurt them
They will never be the same again
As I transfer the pain from one, to another, to another
Everyone has changed
YOU ARE READING
Existentialism and poems
PoesíaHey guys! This is going to be a book full of just shit I feel like writing this will be, poems,and existential crisis stuff I guess :)
