Damned
Roses are red.
but some of them are black.
I love you.
Do you love me back?
Time Moves on.
your not at home.
Life moves on.
I'm so alone.
The razor taunts me.
Laughing at my scars.
Six months sober.
But its still hard.
the mirror hates me.
So I cover my self.
black on my eyes.
the perfect desguise.
to hide my from me.
the work of dispare.
the worst thing is,
nobody's there
|
Email this Poetry
|
Add to reading list





