Poem by Derek Germain
Forlorn, Thrown upon the Floor.
Cold and Desolate just as a corpse.
Maimed and Pierced by the thorn.
Soggy and Wet from the Storm.
How could we just let it die?
It must not have been worth a try?
How could we just leave it this way?
This all feels like a rainy day...
Comments about Forlorn by Derek Germain
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.