Anger through my veins.
You don't listen nor compromise.
Why is it that your always, right?
Abuse, easy, disciplinary.
That what you say.
I hate your actions but never you.
Im I stupid to think, so?
I'm still here, 17,
even after you cut into my flesh.
Why do I always hope for the best?
YOU ARE READING
A Gift To You
PuisiDifferent poems for different situations. I tried to make them as realistic and raw so they may contain real events.
