Your eyes are a beam. They light up the room
Your smile shines bright as if 'twas the moon
A bow is drawn fast and an arrow nocked quick
The hart springs from bushes and too soon it is hit.
Trust, it is fickle, and often misplaced.
I know this is true but I think it displays
A lack of knowledge, on my part in fair
I strive to know better and get caught on your snare.
YOU ARE READING
sometimes
PoetryA collection of mentally ill poems about the world, written by a mentally ill person. Perfect if you're into abstract or freeform poetry. New updates come at random times, but expect slightly consistent updates at least once a week or so! Top 10 in...
