My heart was a flower,
I saw it shrivel and die,
But now I'm glad it said goodbye,
For now I am free,
To spread my wings,
Since I don't feel anything,
Now that nothing matters to me,
Except for fun, swagger, and being free,
Suicidal,
So you say,
To think that way,
Yes,
Yes,
I think you're right,
Cause maybe I don't want to fight,
So emotional suicide,
Is the way to go,
Just trust me when I say its so,
Take your thoughts and let them soar,
Then be quick to close the door,
Reckless, irrational, impulsive, you call me,
Yes, I agree,
That's just how I want to be,
Young, wild, brave, and free.
My heart was my cage,
Now it's gone,
Now my world doesn't seem so wrong.
YOU ARE READING
Wither
PoetryFrustration, Anger, Pain, And sadness, We're all dying from the m a d n e s s . -Our Generation, Wither --- This is my voice to the world.
