I stare at a blank page.
Hoping time wouldn't past nor will I age.
Even though it will I'd still change.
There's so much to bear, to feel, to rage.
What can I do to break off these wages?
Running or hiding wouldn't help.
Even asking help is too much than eating rotten kelp.
Should I be, beat up like a squeeze pulp,
Or drink up a shot with one gulp.
My guilt, oh how it consumes my conscience.
There's nothing that could save me, even science.
Is no match for my crimes.
Crimes I need to pay before midnight chimes.
Inside a dark cell, a lair.
Where last thoughts have drifted from my chair.
YOU ARE READING
Sweet Poems for Me and You...
PoetryThese are my compilations of poems I have made about what I'm feeling in past days... May it be long or short, Will you be my escort? Through a series of love and desires? A dream that will never tire. A special set of poems for you my readers!
