Living is hard
Living is hard when all you have is a large portion of pain
on your lane.
Living is hard when you cut yourself to see if your blood is flowing down
your arm like a river;A river of quiver.
Living is hard when your brain tells you not to be brave but
all you do is crave.
Living is hard when you can't help yourself but you can help
overs. help.Help.HELP.HELP!
👁 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.