Crush
His eyes bleed into my soul,
The end of sadness remains.
Aware of my graceless stares,
He walks with no intention of meeting me.
How estranged we have become,
Endless days of pining to end only alone.
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.