I said the words good bye,
Way too many times.
But my soul still clings to you,
I can't wash you off no matter what I do.
You have stained my skin and made it your gallery,
I would call it art,
But it was made in the name of tragedy.
YOU ARE READING
Drops of Poetry
PoetryDrops of Poetry It's raining outside my window Just like my emotions inside me The taste of the salty rain and sorrow Every problem falls on me like rain I catch it with my hand Turning it to rhymes and names I'm soaking wet from wher...
