Playing Ignorant
Raw words,
etched deep to the page,
I make my mark deeply,
dragged from my gut,
to the surface,
but you notice not
the torn page,
the blotted ink,
turning a blind eye,
to my angst.
Playing ignorant
to my pain.
Ignoring my outstretched hand.
If I were drowning,
would you reach for my hand?
Well, let me tell you now,
I'm drowning.
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.
