Slow Burn.Mature

A short poem I randomly wrote. At the moment I'm working on turning this into a story.(:

It’s a slow burn.
A burn that travels fast travels smooth.
It goes south, he goes north.
It’s a warm amber, he’s a cool blue.
But it’s not enough, to rid the horrid reminiscence of it all.
The thrashing, the throwing, the cause of his fall.

The cries for help just ignored.
No one listened, no one talked.
They just believed what they only saw,
And what they saw was just a lie.

Lies made up to cover the truth,
Truth that needed to be known.
But no one looked deep enough.
No one cared enough to break down his wall.
So once again the bottle meets with his lips,
As he tilts his head to let the amber run down.
Slowly, slowly burning. Till there’s nothing more to

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed