PANIC ENDLESS
Dear God
Is it black or white that life sways
And break at the door like a pot
Even though there be praise
The dark forest of pregnant cloud
Making my life cold as ice
Making my life provoking crowds
Like I lose a chance tossing a dice
Painting me with pain
When I scream for an ice cream
But I know no gain
On gazing at the creem
Panic endless, and my hope in vain
When I cry
In a dry rhymes
That my tears can't drain
👁 4💬 1
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 (1)
Log in to leave a comment.