I gave all I had,
And only got half of it back.
They may have been nice for a moment,
But all they left was a broken heart.
Tears wasted on disrespect;
Scars for men who couldn't commit.
I couldn't love them...
I couldn't love myself.
Love truly is a thorn,
When you lay in a bed of roses.
YOU ARE READING
The Intimacy Of Being Understood
PoetryAn intimate look into the darkest depths of my life. These poems are the embodiment of trials and tribulations of growing up in today's society. I hope these stories bring hope to those who have lived through similar situations and tragedies. Always...
