stale cigarette butts filled the air,
summer came and go just like the smoke from the fire,
your skin was warm from the summer heat,
i was just a drum that you need to beat.young and dumb at seventeen,
i was stuck in a daydream,
while you sit like an old machine.
YOU ARE READING
Don't Speak
PoetryA collection of poetry I've been writing from when I was 14 till now.