I sat there observing
Over the cover of a book.
Your hateful words.
Your spiteful looks.
The mean words you spewed
Claiming them all in jest.
But I can tell from my perch,
That some feelings have been hurt.
You're sure to insist
Nothing was truly meant.
But I can see in her eyes,
Where her hidden scars lie.
Fake smiles over the pain,
Laughing at your taunts,
silently playing along,
like nothing is wrong.
Inside she's crying,
Her light slowing fading.
YOU ARE READING
Spilled Ink
PoesíaA collection of poetry written by myself over the years. Although no particular theme is intended, a lot of them seem to be depression based.
