7:
No matter how friendly I stay...
My mom always has another way...
She points at all my bad stuff...
And I know that I'm sometimes rough...
But she goes over the line...
I'm trying to clean myself so that I can shine...
And I believe that I'm making some progress...
But in her eyes, I always make a mess...
I don't mind if she helps me here and there...
But it is like she points everywhere...
I don't mind if my brother plays with the stuff I throw away...
But whatever I say...
They'll never understand or see...
The soft pain inside me...
I know my brother is still just a child...
But he goes wild...
I don't want to see how he destroys...
My old toys...
But no one cares a thing...
Except for my King...
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts that rhyme
PoetrySometimes it's a story, sometimes it's just a thought or maybe a hidden message. But one thing they all have in common is that they rhyme. (Or supposed to)
