Sword in my side,
knife in my heart,
twisting and turning,
tareing apart.
thorn in my finger,
glass in my eye,
tears, gently falling,
as I try not to cry.
Words bitter, poison
like the deadliest dart,
shooting your arrows,
restricting and tart.
hollowed, old bones ,
feeling weary and cold,
raw anxious nerves,
that can never be bold.
as time goes by slowly,
our bodies do age,
the memories remain
like an old torn out page. ~Seaopal
No comments:
Post a Comment