PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

S.P.K

I was broken from the start
when you carried me
cut me open
fixed me
Believed in me
then like the sad poor kid
I opened up
poored cement in my heart
Strung me from a tree
Shot words of hate into my vains
kept me alive
long enough to torment this soul
and left me to die
let the crows of hate
eat and feist on this tired
torn
broken
dead body