SchloarchipSlam
Learn more about other poetry terms
He doesn't love her.
he doesn't know her.
He doesn't care.
the shoe.
The material.
he wouldn't even if he could.
That moment was nothing more than that
a moment.
A desperate
sad
My voice
Is something which my ears fail to define
When it kisses the air, it splinters
Into exactly 2 billion and 3 question marks
Hooking round my pores and
Peppering my flesh with pock-marks of stray