Poor ThingA Poem by Lunar PupTied down Kicking and screaming to be set free Cold hands cover my lips and hushes my cries
Such a poor thing...
Slapped and cut Rubies fall from bare skin Hand tight to my neck Breaths short and few
Such a poor thing...
I cry out... No one hears A gun to my head And all is silent
Such a poor thing...
Left bare and cold Heart broken His cold hands trace my skin... Such a poor thing
© 2009 Lunar Pup |
Stats
105 Views
1 Review Added on October 25, 2009 |
![[send message]](http://slow.writerscafe.org/images/mail.png){kind=small}
![[befriend]](http://slow.writerscafe.org/images/friend.png){kind=small}
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Flag Writing