He looks like us,
There isn't a difference,
Not in shade,
Not in speech.
He's like us,
Only sick.
We have the medicine,
The cure for his ailments.
He refused.
We mean well,
And wish for his long life.
Yet he keeps us at bay.
He could be cured,
He could be happy,
Yet he wishes for misery.
He could give me his heart,
And I could show him love.
He could give me his soul,
And I would show him freedom.
Yet here we are.
YOU ARE READING
Words to match a Rose
PoetryJust some poems I wrote, felt like it I guess. Fight me about it. #57 highest in poetry. :D Wooo! Hit them double digits! Picture by my friend Cynthia Bisby from work :D
