IT isn't what it was, Was it?
Seems like you're your own worst critic
You feel like an untouched item on a shelf
Yet when when they pick you apart you defend yourself
I Wonder if it's hard trying to convince others of what you don't even know for sure.
Smooth butter lies to hide the pain you endure.
Constantly second guessing
Always over stressing
I suppose the truth was pushed to the side
Lies were the only real place you could hide
Is there guilt in that ?
Or do you give self back pats?
Look at me all high and mighty
Know that It is not I, but the voice inside my head speaks this not me.
YOU ARE READING
Poems.
PoesíaThis will be a compilation of poetry put together. Kind of like a poetry book. I will have my new poetry and maybe some of my friends but I don't take credit for others work so if a poem isn't mine you will know.
