Dear Child,

Sun, 02/11/2018 - 16:01 -- Blurr

I had no arms to remove you, no voice to tell them to stop.

But I had a door, and I let hope in for you.

 

Dents line my walls, as the movers carried out my memories:

The clothes, the bed, the studded belts, the toys they took

 

until I am nothing but a shell.

 

I only have that picture, carved into my empty closet,

a picture of you leaving.The hope took you away.

I am nothing but bad memories. Don’t come back.

 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741