Bittersweet
Burning down to the soul.
Imagine a world of hate.
The feeling of love gone.
The touching of fingers gone!
End.
Run somewhere not gone black.
Still, there is hope.
Where flowers bloom.
Endless,
Elastic.
The world reborn again.
The End
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
Bittersweet, which
was posted on Sep 23, 2011 by
Whitedance.
This is a solo poem.
About this poem
"Imagine the World."
This poem is filed under:
Imagery, Just for Fun
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