Overgrown
The creek is low
so are my hopes;
been squandered and run dry.
My heart is tangled in the weeds
that've grown yay-high.
The seed which was planted
its blossom suffocated
'tis a pity that kind of joy
had no chance
amidst a world of thieves
with greedy eyes.
👁 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.