I cannot burn, my ashes cannot turn into an urn
I've never felt something like this before
Life a candle, my light is burning
Like a candle, I'm slowly melting
Until there's nothing left for me anymore
And I never knew your passion could be a scary shore
A killer, deliberately making a move on you
Until you cannot take another step, and bur stitches you can never sew
YOU ARE READING
One Hundred Fifty
RandomFifty, Fifty, Fifty A writing challenge for myself is to create fifty poems, fifty essays, and fifty one-shot stories, every single prekeng day to make it a hundred and fifty days of honing my skills and giving sparks to my interest. Here's the deal...
