The Untitled Pain

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Untitled Pain.

Submitted: April 25, 2007

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Submitted: April 25, 2007

A A A

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Fables woven,

with silent tear,

Hatred grafted,

within searing stares.

  For what?

Lies leaking,

from rehearsed smiles,

building up into,

stinking piles.

  For what?

Love tainted,

by selfishness,

Mutating into,

something I will not miss.

  For what?

Your pain,

I must consider,

Your pain and my pain,

how do they differ?

  I'm sorry,

  I don't get the picture.

 

 


© Copyright 2017 Tyrone Slade. All rights reserved.

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