Life

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Life


No more roses, no more blood, no more hooded figures in my head, no more acting like I care, no more being anywhere, going away and not Doing it feeling  the pain and not showing it, opening the different doors of life and acting like it's nothing that matters.

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A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

Chii’s Poems (9)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Really? 0
Perfection 0
Longing 0
Breathe 0
Stars 0
Water 0
Roses 0
Life 0
Feelngs of Past 0