Look down on me.
Peirce me with a glare.
Stab me with words.
Can’t you see I’m wounded?
My face is bleeding.
Folding your ear like an envelope, you turn.
See the trees
Watch them bend.
Let me reduce you.
Let me introduce you to, your maker.
- Author: Jalso ( Offline)
- Published: April 5th, 2011 16:15
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.