by lovecanberealSydney, New South Wales, Australia
Jul 2019 481 Views 0 comments
Hot Rush
She holds relief;
In her hand;-
A few white grains of rice.
And down that river,
Now she flows;-
Forgetting all her vice.
Just half a minute;-
(Now before),
Her pain;-
It was so real.
Then the soft rose,
A plume of blood;-
And nothing now is sore.
She once believed in Castles,
And of fairies, and of Princes.
Now all she has,
Is this hot rush;-
And a dirty rented room.
© lovecanbereal
All rights reserved
In her hand;-
A few white grains of rice.
And down that river,
Now she flows;-
Forgetting all her vice.
Just half a minute;-
(Now before),
Her pain;-
It was so real.
Then the soft rose,
A plume of blood;-
And nothing now is sore.
She once believed in Castles,
And of fairies, and of Princes.
Now all she has,
Is this hot rush;-
And a dirty rented room.
© lovecanbereal
All rights reserved
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2019
Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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on Jul 2019
481 Views
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in Dark Poetry
in Free Verse
Last Viewed: 3 hrs ago
Last Edited: Jan 20