Concentration
Where concrete flowers grow
Upon the hidden graves
Is where I spend my time, alone
Counting through the days
With every ashen breath I take
I have to hear them say
“You’re one of us, but you don’t smoke”
It shouldn’t be this way..
I did not smoke, not like them
I never rose to the sky
I closed their eyes, and watched them go
I watched them say goodbye
The concrete flowers tell me
Still here is no natural life
Natural it was not, agreed
But I survived.
Reacties op dit gedicht
| Allysson: | Maandag, april 11, 2011 21:45 |
| mooi einde.. ik ben gewoon sprakeloos.. "Natural it was not, agreed But I survived." xx |
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Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: Mysticelfje |  
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| Gecontroleerd door: | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 08 maart 2009 | ||
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