Drowning HopefullyA Poem by Mike EspinosaThe butterflies in my stomach have died, choked on the dinner you made. One still has hope, treading weakly in the wake. Speaking my mind is forbidden, with your scorn, they are riddled. You look at me with those cold eyes. I shudder, knowing you'll die in the morning.
© 2010 Mike EspinosaReviews
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6 Reviews Added on May 11, 2010 Last Updated on May 11, 2010 AuthorMike EspinosaCovington, WAAbout- College Student at Western Washington University - Philosophy Major - English with Secondary Education Interest Major - I enjoy academic punctuation and grammar and can edit them quickly. - I am.. more..Writing
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