From my poetry collection FLOWERS DO SPEAK.


I am doing my time in this life.
Don't know my crime,maybe it is just afterlife.
Mother is far,far is my heart.
Must be smart but i don't know where to start.

Memory killed by pain,i live under heavy rain.
No sun,no fun,no one
is here with me.I feel like the sea,
all alone,paying for mistakes unknown.

I am doing my time on earth,
been convicted since birth.
Maybe you and me are just the same
but,darling,i don't feel nothing but shame.


For me life is an endless story,
repeats her self with no glory.
Can't escape the invisible chains,
can't scream the unbearable pains.

Doing my time.
For what crime?
Doing my time.
No soul is mine.

Read 238 times
Written on 2022-04-23 at 09:26

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text

I know the pain of living like that, but they say that time heals what reason cannot. I guess we'll see.

John holliday
Very Deep....I have a feeling we are all doing time....

Uncle Meridian The PoetBay support member heart!
I like the rhymes within the lines of the first two or three stanzas! Thank you for posting it!