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My lungs are on fire with the words I cannot say.
screaming in my mind
Their heads hang like hinges in this barren wasteland.
The end
is not coming
we must wait another hundred years.
Throbbing to my fingers -
There is no use.

Time is up.
©2009 ~toppie-sfb
:icontoppie-sfb:

Author's Comments

You probably couldn't guess it by reading this poem, but it is about my crush. If you can even describe it with that world.
You can take almost all of this poem literally, in a sense.

:heart: Toppie

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May 25
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