Broken Hope,
broken heart,
broken knuckles,
blood on the wall.
Hell is here
please beware,
for the end's near
and the hope is rare.
Poet's note
Hell's hope, heh, we know how much hope we can find in hell. Those of you not tricking yourself into believing you do have hope, hold on to your's, I lost mine, and honestly, it sucks.
YOU ARE READING
Before The Light
PuisiPain... I'm pretty sure no one likes to talk about that. Compared to those who have been abused or those who are facing racism, sexism or such, my pain is absolutely nothing. But it does hurt. Poetry is an outlet for my feelings. Paper does have mo...
