The apple of your eye, the rotten core inside.

by Sarah   Jul 2, 2009


Fields of green, walk barefoot.
Weeds grow with color, he loves me not.
Supported by earth, I lay.
See brittle ends, razor cut green.
I lay, supported by earth.
People walk, stomp, and run; trash.
I lay in cut grass and cigarette butts.

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Latest Comments

  • 15 years ago

    by Lonely Rider

    I lay in cut grass and cigarette butts.

    ^^ very sad poem about our mother nature... this line really touched me...

    nice write...

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