Poems from s_labrada
There was a boy, a boy I once knew.
He wasn't the best, according to you.
Yes, he sold drugs; crack and weed too,
but no one would judge...
Alienated and lonely,
Sad and afraid.
Speaking out is not an option,
help; a foreign word.
Touchy hands.
Slimy hands.
Dirty hands.
Rough...