The Bad Things

the bad things are planted in winter
but they don't bloom until the spring.
 
i don't have that much ambition.
what i thought was pure affection
turned out to be another obsession.
i never learn my goddamn lesson.
 
i'm just a bobble head.
make me cry and my eyes turn red.
baby boy, your love is tiring.
and my brain needs some rewiring.
 
i need to know it's not all in my head.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace