Rose Buds
1 February, 2001
Author: Melanie Washington
pricks blood from an already stricken wound
disorganized minds filled with nonsense and lies
when a war starts in your soul that you can not control
when you lose sense of your own emotions
when battles are being fought were there are no winners
your every waking moment is controlled by someone else
their reactions are what makes your actions
pricks of blood from an already stricken wound
when you realize that the war inside of you
will never and can never end
when that
final dreadfullness passes over you
then and only then
can you and will you ever
know how i feel
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Comments on this poem/writing:
| Katie (69.80.116.47) -- Wednesday, January 2 2013, 11:26 pm Would you mind if I used your poem for a poetry program for Speech Team? I would give you full credit. |
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