That is me, lying there, burning.
No one is coming
No one is running.
I could move
A door 5 feet away
Teasing me.
An escape hatch
I could flee
Yet there I lay
amongst the flames
the flickering wick.
And there they stand
Two houses down
I could shout
I could scream,
I could plead.
But my mouth, stitched shut.
Besides, their water pump is broken.
I wouldn't want to bother,
I wouldn't want to make a scene.
YOU ARE READING
Begging In The Abyss
PoetryIf you would enjoy reading about the abyss of life, love, hope and all else in the form of poetry, well then I think you've found the right place.
