Your lungs were beautiful
And now
They're painted black with tar
They had flowers
The flowers now withered
Painted black with tar
When will you learn darling
When will you learn these lungs were made so you could breath and let these flowers grow.
-pheonix
YOU ARE READING
poetry by me
PoésieI will publish a poem whenever I'm feeling it. These poems come from my own experience and pain in life.my heart goes into every single poem.I hope I can help people see the that they are not alone. Please do not steal these Its copyrighted poems b...
