The Burn Poem by Sheilisa Morrow
The Burn
It hurts making my body harder to move
I can't breathe because his touch is like fire
People's words touch me like honey
My 'Friends' touch me like a dying need for bad attention
My true friends words are like a gutter or a black hole but they mean well
Killing me softly as the days go by
'GOD! SAVE ME! ' I cry out hoping he can help me
When he saves me my pain starts over
But life is never easy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/16/2026 6:24:47 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
