The State
The problem seeks to end us.
To show its fangs.
To show its wrath.
In the end no blood was spilled.
No rips.
Nor tears.
Only a quite sombre.
As the Problem consumes us 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.