Humid air in my lungs.
With every breath comes fire.
No burning desire to aspire.
Should this be it?
The last blow to my lips.
Fragmented, broken and damaged.
No reason to hold or let go.
I'll forever be in limbo.
YOU ARE READING
A Gift To You
PoetryDifferent poems for different situations. I tried to make them as realistic and raw so they may contain real events.
