Hope walks down the street
And observes the world's fashion
Ripped promises, baggy friendships
Short love and long sleeved jealousies
Shrugged over by destruction.
She sips the sands of time
And nudes her body
To worship the sunlight
Her head paints a mesmerizing picture
Of her belly they kicked
Tongue thrown out, heart oozing
Down the butcher's blade spattered the peeling carpet,
Unnoticed in their dark February heat
"Why do people exist?" Hope wonders,
"To shiver you down the spine"
The unfelt heat whispered.
Fists flat and they bombard Hope's breast
Knowing disapproval
They expect her to stay quiet
Frozen rather
She hasn't spoken, nor made a sound
Wrapped in her sweet innocence
But sweet never paid
And a million sweeter Hopes they shut
As eighteen seasons have passed
And spring hasn't yet come.
—urmi
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Window Acoustic
Poesía'Window Acoustic' is a treble and bass of my thoughts. In this collection, one may find poetry born out of light and dark seeking to avoid reality or facing its vice.
