Our Own Hell
The Sun burns down
Turning the day into a hell
Tarmac burns and bubbles
Sticking to children’s feet
Sunscreen will not work
Your body turns red in minutes
Clothes hurt way too much
And sleeping is almost impossible
All you can do is pray for cold air
Or you could pray for a quick death
Either way would be a blessing
Chill please. I was just kidding
But, think about this for a second
At least you wouldn't hurt anymore
© Poem – IV/XI/MMXXV
LRET
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