A poem written for broken hearts.

The last sound

Of this the last game.

Played on the board of life,

A strange dripping,

Scarlett flowing,

Drip, drip, drip.

Onto shattered pieces

Of broken hearts,

And forgotten dreams.

And left behind wishes.

2
Liked it
Comments (0)

Currently there are no comments related to "End Game". You have a special honor to be the first commenter. Thanks!

Leave a Comment

Hi there!

Hello! Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!

Find the Spot

Loading