When you take everything away,
And nothing stays,
How can you say,
That you've lived today?
When nothing's left,
And your mind's bereft,
How do they guess,
About the scars on your flesh?
When nothing's there,
And your head's only hair,
They'll set off a flare,
But you won't care.
When it's all gone,
And you just write songs,
Which word throngs,
Are very wrong?
YOU ARE READING
Mistaken
PoesíaA book of poems about the LGBT, depression, selfharm, suicide, freedom, and society.
