Dead Heart
screaming words that are silent,
gasping for air from losing breath,
clasping on the ground, with flowing rivers
grabbing my heart from my chest and pull it out.
the stinging sensation hurts for a moment then
my heart beats slower as it losses oxygen.
in my hands is a dead heart.
how was it possible to survive with such little notice?
but tiss the heart never had no noticed at all,
it gets flys on it, then magets,
it then rots and leaves a strong stink,
it the disinigreats and leaves residue,
it then disappears.
Tiss there was not heart at all.
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.
