Until There’s Nothing Left.

We corrupt ourselves until there's
nothing left,the children wept
because of the pain they felt,
how can this be? how can
something so pretty become
so ugly? what happened to
the beauty of life,it's like
death came twice.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem

This Poems Story

This poem is about how the beauty of life has been ripped away from so many.