Little Cuts In My Throat by lombi
Should I see a transparent ghost
against the tangible backdrop
of oppression speaking freely
Dapwhere the reaper quests for peace
because death be most humane,
I shall not answer your call
though my heart may plead loudly
its voice shall be but drowned
in the liquid of my eyes.
I trust thee not lest I touch
and my touch produce results!
How shall I know thy name true?
For I hath cracked my door past.
Tempted to stand beside you
but hath found false hope, fading away.
Poem: Neva Brooks