Poem #334

Luna

She almost becomes one with people.
She immerses herself in one’s body and 
emerges carrying out their pain and sorrow. 
The burden gets too hard to carry and
people just keep piling on. They are biting
the hand that fed them help.  

Her bones break, her shoulders cannot carry the load.
When her body hits the ground there’s no one to pick her up.
The dust settles on a body that has a cold touch to it now.
It’s the death of an empath. 
 

View original post

we would love to hear from you!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.