predict my future

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By Mary Magdalene •

she counted her blessings every time she saw that scar running down her leg the blood veins beside it exciting and inviting she stopped eating and talking stopped walking and all sits motionless in bed staring at the scar running down her leg my voice in a box that is locked i've been shot and i miss what i've never tasted i long to escape the uneasiness and the vague it's my leg and my scars beautiful and far

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January 6, 2009 17:44Tyler Cedric Golden

hmmmmm very interesting poem but nonetheless good and also relative from a certain point of view...i liked this poem very much and in a sort of similarity if you want c what you think about my poem (Concept of Hell)but indeed a very good poem...