Gah

My billionaires make billionaires

Loose my hair

Falling Falling just can’t seem to let go

 

Each word I pen is met with uncalled for criticism

That’s why I stick to poetry

Because who can judge

A bunch of jumbled words

About the knife in my gut

And my broken heart

 

I set fire to the stem in my mouth

And hope to forget

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s