I hold my quill in truth and pain,
denying days by ways of words.
Within my mind, I find myself
a broken man against the world.
Afraid to win, I always lose.
I die again to live in vain.
Adrift in poems of darkened themes,
I weave the words around my core.
12/04/2016 © Waseem Sherif
my first attempt at meter (iambic). I usually write Free Verse.
I have a long way to go!