#WritcoPoemPrompt25
She toils through the day,
Without a word or a nay,
She earns her daily bread,
Not a tear does she shed
her favourite place is her bed
with her dreams or un awakeness
she fights to be free and to keep her eyes so she can see
i take it you think shes , me.
she is
and here i be
we can sit together over tea
my old mother used to say
i say, i am alive today
even though its yesterdays death
tomorrow is alwaysa new day or it never comes. triped out i am
but not this one, you.
im always tripoing out
as in falling . i need some help or need to stop calling.
inside im bawlling and full of death , now hes stalling
sorry to all who met me,
im a peice of shit inside and out
i like to leave reality and be less and gone forreal.
my hobby is to steal
never knew about the next meal , my stomache hurts of hunger today , im gonna shit my pants , i wondet what sin ill have to pay
may
or
nay