The Guillotine

A Poem by Barbara Borel

When everything you thought to be real was only but a dream. But deep inside of you is a horrific scream. All you dreamed of and wanted washed away. No one here in this life can very long day. The guillotine is where I lay my weary head. Unless you carry me to your father to bed. If just one last time this love could be real... I pray to God my true self to conceal.

© 2016 Barbara Borel

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Added on December 4, 2016
Last Updated on December 4, 2016

Author

Barbara Borel

Metairie , LA

About

Born and raised in New Orleans. Use words as a way of expressing myself. I dont write for an audience or to get praise or please anyone. Writing is therapy. In my eyes expressing words in paper... th.. more..

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