Discussion in 'Poetry' started by Silent_concubine, May 31, 2004.

  1. eat the flesh
    spit out the seeds
    that’s all there is
    to this disease
    you want the cure
    it’s easy, it’s a breeze
    close your eyes
    drop to your knees
    it’s a daunting blade
    it’s a silver shell
    you can’t buy love
    it’s not for sell
    you can touch my hand
    my heart exposed
    but I warn you first
    I have thorns like a rose
  2. I thoroughly enjoyed this poem. It's well composed, directly to the point without too much fluff and stuff. Giving you an understanding of the intimate nature composing this individual. It is a disease.

Share This Page

  1. This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
    By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.
    Dismiss Notice