Untitled
It's clear as an empty whiskey jar
I have changed many forms
I woke up just to take in
Someone else's breath to carry me
Through the lengthy wait and preceeding reputation
And though I am angry, hateful
I can feel things like no one else
It taunts me with a wicked laughter
It breaks me with a dreadful reminder
That I am not yet dead and not yet loved
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.
