Hurt

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Hurt

Rain is falling,
the smell of red desert sand is in the air,
i watch the drops roll down the window,
ten thousand angels crying,
are they crying for me?
i taste salt water as it rolls over my lips
an drops to the ground,
trying not to feel, but you touched me,
i felt, now im feeling

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To have great poets there must be great audiences too.

Walt Whitman, American Poet (1819-1892)

fleebag’s Poems (12)

Title Comments
Title Comments
I feel 0
lies 0
Not me 0
Silence 0
Cry 1
Releif 2
Love me 2
F U 2
Imprint 0
Guilt 1
ME 1
Hurt 0