A song of my inner self
My height hurts my height,
I mean of freedom,
freedom in any angle,
mainly for my inner self.
Unjustly treated height,
opportunities between my fingers,
anger conquering my heart,
hurting that right of love,
mercilessly.
The time is near,
for heights to faint
and have no more control,
over love, trust and opportunities,
through sacrifices, sweat
and sweet fruits.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
