L.Y.L. Friday, January 25, 2008
All these problems, they burn in my heart,
Espescially the one's that have yet to start.
Many things are running through my mind,
All leaving cuts, one at a time.
People don't realize, how their words hurt,
Or how they can trample us into the dirt.
Their words are like poison, painful and sharp,
Each linking together, like a horrible work of art.
I'm sure they don't mean to stab me inside,
But they would see it, if they looked into my eyes.
The skip in my walk, is no longer there,
The whip in my words, is gone with a flare.
And although my smile still has it's bloom,
You don't know what happens, when I'm in my room.
This poem is not a cry for help,
It is merely a diary of how I felt.
And someone once said, never regret,
What once made you laugh, and yet,
Somehow my heart, can't bring me to smile.
But as for now, I'll wait for a while.
And when you look over your shoulder, I'll be there,
Not out of guilt, but because I still care
Leah
Espescially the one's that have yet to start.
Many things are running through my mind,
All leaving cuts, one at a time.
People don't realize, how their words hurt,
Or how they can trample us into the dirt.
Their words are like poison, painful and sharp,
Each linking together, like a horrible work of art.
I'm sure they don't mean to stab me inside,
But they would see it, if they looked into my eyes.
The skip in my walk, is no longer there,
The whip in my words, is gone with a flare.
And although my smile still has it's bloom,
You don't know what happens, when I'm in my room.
This poem is not a cry for help,
It is merely a diary of how I felt.
And someone once said, never regret,
What once made you laugh, and yet,
Somehow my heart, can't bring me to smile.
But as for now, I'll wait for a while.
And when you look over your shoulder, I'll be there,
Not out of guilt, but because I still care
Leah