There will be no next week
The only thing here
when you finally make time to meet
is a hollow lifeless body, if you will weep
Because when I cried for help
It is you who failed to see
chose to turn away
and ignore completely.
YOU ARE READING
Two Years Late
PoetryA collection of moments where rhyming was necessary. Short, simple poetry; yet, those who relate - too many. Weird titles for humor, but that doesn't make the poem experience less painful. Those titles are painful to me though. You'll see.
