A plea
Whole world's gone to hell,
Here I sit in jail,
Cold floors touch my hands,
As tears flow out in strands,
God help me please,
I'm a product of the breeze,
A leaf gone with the flow,
Thinking this is where I should go,
I did not show Grace but stone,
These choices were my own,
Pray this isn't too late for me,
Please God hear my plea!
Copyright © Garrett Bass | Year Posted 2025
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment