The hollow empty

Give me a flower
For every year I died.
Make sure to place it
somewhere in the dust,
out of the way.

Fire the shots to count
Every tear that I cried.

Remember the rage
We faced in years to come
Red rivers flow, drying
in the sun.

This is not our world
Ours has never been born.
Until that day, of the Golden Horn.

Soul of pain
buried just below the surface
remembering suns long ago
when I was alive.

A child.

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8 thoughts on “The hollow empty”

  1. I really like this one. It’s strong. In that first stanza, though, you should put “out of the way” on its own line, just below “somewhere in the dust”. The second to last stanza is my favorite.

    1. Thank you. I wont be alive until I die. No, just kidding! I love where I am at in life, but the words of the past come out, taking on a life of their own. Since I write from experience, everything (99%) is based on my life. Thanks again for your kind words.

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