These words I write
aren't real,
they're just randomly selected
letters I steal.
Those letters become words
trying to explain how I feel.
But something is missing:
an emotion, inspiration
that will really give my words
full appreciation.
I know what I want,
I need you to be complete inside
Can't you tell?
No longer do I want to hide
I can only do so much
with paper and a pen
and my words don't mean anything
if you don't read them.
~ PINK // September 2014
YOU ARE READING
Our Little Tragedies
PoetryThis is my poetry, starting from July 2014. I write about my life and desires and how I see the world. My pen name is PINK. Feel free to point out any typos. Enjoy :)
