I know you hate me, even though you say you love me so much that you can't see me like this.
Yeah, right.
If you loved me, you'd understand that instead of yelling, you should give me a helping hand.
Instead you leave a scar, a brand.
I'm not even my own, I'm just your pet.
Your failure, your means to which I wish I could end.
Don't yell, please.
You only make it worse.
I already torture myself, it's my curse.
So don't tell me I'm wrong or that I'm not a saviour.
Because I already know that I am a failure.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Of A Broken Heart And A Poisoned Mind
PoetryThe title might seem a bit morbid but the poetry here is simply made. These are in the form of SPOKEN WORD (and some other things) and might have many different meanings for many different people. In this book, there are both light and dark verses...
