When I cry

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Cleaning out some old work and recovered this little poem I wrote sometime around the new year.

Submitted: July 03, 2008

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Submitted: July 03, 2008

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When I cry
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They have a kind of power over me
It’s a curse of my existence, but not the man I want to be
Perhaps it’s in the choice they make, or not, as they walk by
I feel like such a weak man when I cry
 
No man ne’er won fair maid they say
That faint of heart hid him away
And bound inside a prison without walls, wondering why.
I feel like such faint man when I cry
 
It’s like they know about me, and I’m worse that I pretend
Like some evil chameleon that to the darkness blends
And there, they see inside and they see a wretched guy
For I feel so dark and woeful when I cry
 
I know it’s in the power that they have
It’s the power that I gave
I cannot take it back. I don’t know how, but I know why
I feel so powerless and feeble when I cry.


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