The leaves on the trees are turning,
My heart feels like it is burning.
But this is not heartburn,
No, this is my life taking yet another turn.
A new feeling burns under my skin, begging to be let out;
In this moment, in this life, there is no point to pout.
And when you leave,
I learn to cleave.
No wonder this feeling is so hard to find,
We're not supposed to have it,
It should be illegal for our kind.
Locked Up
This poem is about a feeling. What feeling? That's your choice. You make up a stry in your mind that would go with what this person is feeling.Did you like this poem? Write one of your own!
