Look at what we have done;
Another vacant, distant cry.
Another sound of sorrow
Illuminates the night sky.
For I have seen many hearts
Broken, harmed,
Irreplaceable.
But nothing seems as sweet as yours,
A scent of flowers, roses,
Blood.
The never ending glue.
That connection breaks
-- We are lost.
YOU ARE READING
Bits & Scraps & Random Stuff...
PoetryRandom thoughts. Can they be called poetry? I have no idea.
