I was a young heart,
A young heart that pulsed.
You saw its purity
And its youth.
Carress me with your voice,
I begged on lonesome nights.
Stroke me with your touch,
I pleaded on lonely days.
You did.
You carressed me with your voice,
You whispered reassuring lies.
You stroked me with your touch,
You sunk the poison in me.
It's a bitter truth that cuts deep,
It's a bitter truth that's masked
Masked by your innocent lies,
It's a bitter truth that I refuse.
It's a young heart that's drowned,
Drowning in the tidal waves
That roll and submerge me
Every day, every night.
It's the waves of life,
It's the storms of death,
It's the claws of cruelty
That reach for my young heart.
The truth slithered out of its wicked veil,
The truth that you were never here.
The truth slithered out of its wicked veil,
The truth that I am no longer a young heart.
I am not full of youth or age.
I don't have a young heart,
I don't have an old heart.
I have none.
YOU ARE READING
Poems of Pain and Solitude
PoetryFor every person out there that was quiet, not because they chose to be so, but because they were choking in the smoke. Because their opinions were apparently not worth anything. Because they didn't know just how to say what they felt. For every per...
