i was so far in the dirt
that you watered me with pity,
wondering why i wouldn't grow.
where were the blooms
that you'd been promised,
the roots to hold me firm?
you poured
and poured
and poured
on me.
you weren't the first.
you weren't the last.
dirt is mud when it gets wet.
and i never saw the sunshine.
VOUS LISEZ
Open To Interpretation
PoésieThis is a collection of some of my old poems, short stories, and other writing that I created a few years ago, while I was going through a really rough patch in my life. I wanted to publish it back then, but this is the best that I can do for now. E...
