Weekends

A Poem by LikeAWritingOne

You are nothing to me

Nothing but

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

You cannot touch me

For I am the silent guardian

A wounded warrior in a broken shell

The last drop of dew

On a razor sharp blade of grass

To cut you into the pieces you are

Weekends

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lovely sharp sweet write.

150 Views
1 Review
Added on June 20, 2015
Last Updated on June 20, 2015

Gone

The Darkness

Old Friend