My heart flows down the empty creeks,
Where angels and demons never sleep.
My soul toils in an endless maze,
Wherein every turn I make,
All I see is your face.
My heart is heavy with old thorns,
It is damaged, it is torn.
You want her but you cling to me,
Can you stop pretending and let me be?
I will sew these mournful images into a beautiful tapestry,
And cover the walls of misery.
YOU ARE READING
Drops of Poetry
PoetryDrops of Poetry It's raining outside my window Just like my emotions inside me The taste of the salty rain and sorrow Every problem falls on me like rain I catch it with my hand Turning it to rhymes and names I'm soaking wet from wher...
