He disappears,
And it is as useless as a bell,
With a missing maid,
He fumbles with his hat,
On his own accord,
To say he forgives,
And is committed to giving,
But he really meant living,
Or caring,
Is permitted unavailable,
And invisible,
Helping only to one's self,
Strapping and strapped down to a bed,
With cold, frozen and wet sheets,
Tired,
They roped his wrists,
Here, and then there,
As if they actually had an ounce of care,
It was only fear,
It was only once anger,
But now it is fear,
Driven by,
There hearts,
Desires in diversity,
Like black men,
And stereotypes,
But, for what it is worth,
It had all been true,
And they shot him down,
Though it was hell of a second of bravery,
It had lasted but a wee second,
Gone the next,
It is only but fear....
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Another Spiral Notebook
PoesíaAnd we throw thoughts to the wind like we're throwing unicorns into thin are and expecting them to grant us three wishes. We are heartless and broken human beings on Earth, and yet we still wait for love and all this life's good treasures. We're bro...
