Poems ✍️

In all my unhappiness rivers do run cold
an ancient body tires in a state of old.
When trials become the worded tale,
an old woman becomes the pale.

A wretched time of life, rude and cruel
false promises turn smart people to fools.
To pause from reality, live in delusions midst
presents the mark who laid down for a kiss.

Wiped clean a mountain years to build
took hope and trust away, an old cads skill.
Mourn, mourn though death has not occurred,
worse than death hell happened in a word.

Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: Sept.25/2015