Dead Love, by Loneliness is condescending
|
Drinking up My sorrow
Enjoying the silent despair
Acting out my part in life
Making my voice heard
On the floor again
No ones here to pick me up
Hurting from the bruise, forced to keep them hidden
Undermining my self worth, saying that you love me
Never finding my own dreams
Trembling under your loving grip,
legs crumbling beneath me
Escaping from your view, I tell myself that you love me
Running to your arms hiding from the truth
|
Posted: 2006-04-16 18:57:37 UTC |
This poem has no votes yet. | To vote, you must be logged in.
|
To leave comments, you must be logged in.
2005-03-01 00:13:05 | My_pain_your_thrill |
this really touched me coz I can relate to it, short but powerful. |