Organic Split
You're profession is my depression,
A constant reminder of an emotional grinder,
A year of sleep is all I need,
Inducing coma of you're planted seeds,
The weeds can grow,not that I'll know,
Water my pain I'm feeding slow,
I'm moving now towards the sun,
Never to return you weren't the one.
Copyright © Karl Mcdonnell | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment