They wrapped me in skin that wasn't mine.
Just so I could slice it off.
They gauged out my eyes.
Just to let me see the black.
They threw me in the Gulag.
Just to watch me break.
Tattered moss covers these walls.
Condemning screams echo the halls.
As they pay to see the boy trapped in the Gulag.
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Author:
Noah (
Offline) - Published: August 18th, 2017 05:37
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
Offline)
Comments1
Is the last line supposed to be in instead of on?
Just a small inquiry. This is morbid, and I appreciate darker themed poetry. It has much more contrast between life and death than most cheerful poetry does. It's nice. Never heard of Gulag before, had to look it up.
It is suppose to be in, thanks for the feedback.
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