Impaled

Impaled

A Poem by Hallow

It ate me up
And left me dry.
Cross my fingers
And hope to die.

Pain is strange,
And grief is worse.
Time's a thief
For what it's worth.

The ache remains
The sadness flows.
I'd rather be stuck
With a prickly rose.

I feel no hope.
I feel no joy.
I miss you so
My little boy.

© 2025 Hallow


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Added on March 10, 2025
Last Updated on March 10, 2025

Author

Hallow
Hallow

About
Just enjoying the anonimity. more..

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