PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Trialed


Unaware of your pretenses.. utterly unaware, for you coquettish ways wooed me with conspicuous gestures of fidelity to only be left as a sullen widow full of remorse. Your transgressions will not be vindicated for your indictments on my behalf have shamed me for life. I've been marked with  an A and placed upon trial. For I have been burned for I have been hanged. Left to rot, left in flames. A forlorn cry in the middle of the night. Incredulous lies as the witch is trialed.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

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.