Current Mood: creative
Current Music: roommate listening to hare krishnas

Entry tags:

poems by me

"My Wealth Would Render This No Less Severe..."

They took that child from me
in a tired and bloody room
after four long hours of useless struggle
and lullabies for the dead.
Instead of the warm cave of me,
I gave her two bad choices
and now all I have is two closed eyes
and a handful of blood.

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