Feet like rotten wood.
I carry termites to my grave.
Dear Rain, bathe me.
Wash my sins off.
Lighting, pierce through my eyes
Take away my sight.
Give me vision.
YOU ARE READING
Growing
PoetryA collection of cliche poems illustrating the struggles of a dramatic teenager accompanied by average photography.
Regret
Feet like rotten wood.
I carry termites to my grave.
Dear Rain, bathe me.
Wash my sins off.
Lighting, pierce through my eyes
Take away my sight.
Give me vision.
