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Out of her misery, I was born. For what purpose and for who, I was not sure yet. But one thing I knew was that my tragedy was already molded by the hands of the woman I call mother. A collection of poems + Bonus short story

Poésie Déconseillé aux moins de 13 ans.

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Graduation Day

On Graduation day, you were smiling
Your face was shimmering with hope
After everything was over, you were crying
Your hands were holding an envelope

I pretended not to watch you,
But deep down I felt my heart sink
On this happy day you were blue
Tears flowing down as you blink

I look back at the memory and curse
I should have gone up there and talk
But I was a coward and made it worse
So now I glare at the damned clock

My mom asked me that day,
"Did you enjoy high school?"
I didn't answer, but I did pray
Pray that you forgive this fool

Here I am now, writing this poem
Regretting not taking action that time
I wish this poem was filled with roses
But instead is a confession of a crime

I should have not drifted away
I should have stayed by your side
Everything without you is grey
I think I have already died

On graduation day, you were lying
Your face was cowering in fear
I wonder if you thought of dying
Please don't give up, my dear

23 Juillet 2020 17:00:07 0 Rapport Incorporer Suivre l’histoire
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