This Will..

A shoulder to cry on,

A body to hold.

Longing for love,

Longing for cure.

One more day,

One more life.

Another soul lost.

Another reborn.

A shoulder to cry on,

A body to hold.

This longing is killing us.

This longing is pain.

One more day.

One more life.

Another disadvantage.

Another lost hope.

This will kill us.

One day or another.

Reviews

[JerryB]

Eh . . . Sad, melancholy piece of writing. I like dark poetry and delve into it from time to time. The only difference now than when I used to ONLY write dark is that I have slain my demons. In this heavy-hitting piece, it seems you still have those demons hanging around. Good luck in defeating them.

[Becca]

You got all of that out of this poem? We all have demons to slay though.. And it takes time. But thank you for the review and for your insight.

[JerryB]

No, I guess I didn't get all that from your poem, I suppose I was just tooting my own horn. I apologize.

[Becca]

All good. I write to get people to think. I suppose I did have a reason behind this poem though.