And you, why?
Why scratch my soul,
Leaving me bruised, broken, and bleeding alone?
Why play with me, knowing full well
That you would later leave,
Slipping away as the night slowly sighs?
Like rain roaring at first,
Promising to bless the barren ground,
To call the seeds to rise
Yet it turns to hail, harsh and heavy,
Shattering the tender sprouts,
Leaving the field of my heart
Silent, frozen, and dead for good.
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Author:
@merci (
Offline) - Published: November 3rd, 2025 05:37
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is one of those you write because you are angry and then later when you are no longer angry you wonder why did you write such thing in the first place
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Offline)
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