Ignoring my problems is what I do best.
They'll be there forever, even after I rest.
All lined up, and ready to take,
Theres no more to love, no more to hate.
Sitting in a casket, all rotted and worn,
They're still there with me, no longer as warm.
The flowers are all wilted, broken with time.
Yet the problems remain with me, still claiming to be mine.
I push and I push, shoving them away.
They don't seem to mind, they'll embrace me either way.
Holding onto them instead of fixing the holes,
They hold my tears, gathering them in little bowls.
They don't yell or scream, not like i'm used to.
They whisper and cry, say I need more sleep than I think I do.
They lull me to sleep, push me to rest.
Maybe, just maybe, keeping them really was for the best.
YOU ARE READING
Don't Leave Me Now, My Love..
Poetry[[Quick warning! Most of the ideas written in this are about sad/depressing topics, please tread with caution!]] I always have small writing ideas when making up another book. However, I can't always add those in, as they don't usually fit the plot...
