... Blind Are Able To See ...
Some have to see to believe it,
Others are blind yet,
Can feel it.
The flame burns thick,
As a wick.
Dwelling darkness inside,
Of the withering minds.
Is this the part,
Were we start our lives?
What a sight for the sore eyes?
It's getting colder in here,
It's sobering.
To see them,
Shuffle to the back of the line.
While they suffer in fear,
The mark that was made it's so clear.
Quivering thoughts now surround you,
Engulfed by the tides that we undo.
The ties that hold shadows at bay,
Are bound and undone.
All but the one.
Here comes the part,
Were we start our lives.
On the edge I stand,
Preparing to go but,
I feel I've already been here.
What a sight for the sore eyes?
It's colder in here,
It's sobering.
To see them,
Shuffle to the back of the line.
While they march in with fear,
The marks that were made,
Are so clear.
Why does nothing make us wanna try?
You're too close,
To look behind.
Just one touch,
You can change your mind.
YOU ARE READING
Lullaby Of Pain
PoetryPoems about everyday lives of teens, how they might feel you aren't good enough, etc. Well I understand. All these poems are meant for you because you aren't alone. I wrote all these poems myself, please don't copy mine.
