Death

In the end of time i managed to escape what i thought was death but in turn she was liberating freeing in a way i could see her flowing black hair and floral dress she was kind and beautiful she tasted like honey and smelled like rasberries giving freedom to eveyone she could. That is who my death wa and like the fool i was i managed to what i thought was an escape but turned out she was the escape

This poem is about: 
Me

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