Tortured Poetry

Broken Promises

"Life is good!","C'est la vie",

But that ain't it for me.

I try, try, try to feel a little less blue,

But I keep on getting broken like promises and rules.

I'm the tapestry that everyone dares to shred,

And now I feel like I'm hanging on by a thread.

Broken bones or broken hearts, not sure which is worse,

All I know is that this cruel world has used and left me hurt.

I'm a tortured poet stuck inside a shattered box,

I search for the keys, but there are too many locks.

I see my fakest smiles grow and grow more,

While everyone laughed and called me bore.

I try to keep calm, I try to keep cool,

But we all know it's fake, you do too.

And I pour my heart out to my pillow every night,

Wishing that God could see my wretched plight,

And give me flight.

And every now and then I break down,

And wonder if all I ever was, was a circus clown.

I waited for this place to treat me right,

But all they treated me like,

...was a situation to be handled.