deepundergroundpoetry.com
No Title.
I don't want anyone to cry for me.
The girl they should have cried for is dead,
But He looked at me and said,
That little girl isn't dead.
The ashes of the house she once lived in,
Is where she lies,
Her bloodshot eyes,
Her charred body.
Paralyzed all but her eyes,
Darting back and forth,
Taking in the burnt ruin,
Of the place she once called,
Home.
The girl they should have cried for is dead,
But He looked at me and said,
That little girl isn't dead.
The ashes of the house she once lived in,
Is where she lies,
Her bloodshot eyes,
Her charred body.
Paralyzed all but her eyes,
Darting back and forth,
Taking in the burnt ruin,
Of the place she once called,
Home.
Published 2nd Jan 2025
Author's Note
(another older poem)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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