I'm not just a weekend getaway,
I'm not just cookies dipped in milk,
I'm not just the luxuries I gave you,
perhaps,you don't know that I'm a human too.
I have a beating heart too.
(you took me for granted)
YOU ARE READING
The bleeding rose.
PoetryThis is a collection of poetry and prose.I write for those who were left in destitute,those whose scars and pain are left unattended. Come with me and explore a journey through words.
