Look at her sleep deprived eyes,
think of how long she cries.
What she does to get up from the blood covered floor,
and force herself out the god damn door.
Oh, the joys of Sunday morning sadness,
she tries to fight away the badness, the madness.
Trying to light up the blackness.
You can sense that someone has been crying,
and you can feel that someone has been dying.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry/Lyric Bundles
PoetryHey guys, this is just a bunch of poetry/lyrics that I have written and decided to put online. THESE ARE MINE. I HAVE WRITTEN THEM. DO NOT USE THEM UNLESS I GRANT YOU PERMISSION. Thank you :)
