The sky is red,
and so is the floor.
It will turn dark
and so will my heart.
The sun's up again,
but the floor's still stained.
A small choice of mine,
changed my whole lane.
Now all I see is black,
darkness, it set a trap.
Now in a box,
is my very dear corpse.
Poet's note
Yeah yeah, ik it's too dark.... Sorry, I couldn't help it. And ik it doesn't rhyme much but I felt this is better than the edited one...
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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...
