It flows down her arm,
the tears and blood mingle,
but no one cares,
no one sees,
the torture going on behind her mind.
She cries herself to sleep,
with no one to hold her,
she no longer feels loved.
Where did her childhood happiness go?
She has no idea.
YOU ARE READING
Sad Book of Poetry
PoesíaSome of the poems I've written, all of them sad. If you don't like sad stuff, don't read it.
