Tear Here... Poem by Mary Champion
Tear Here...
When we are apart, you are a festering wound.
No doubt you'll give me gangrene in the end.
I'm not as daft as I would like to be,
But when we are apart, I can pretend.
But every time our paths cross and we meet,
The wound that merely wept and stayed discrete,
Is ripped wide open for the world to see.
Look at this bleeding mess you've made of me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
8/28/2026 5:14:29 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
