My chest aches from the envy inside me
My hands drag down my throat in jealousy
I look around for something worth to see
I'm gripping at my hair in ecstasyOh how I wish I had that kind of care
I lay on the cushions of depression
I scream at God on how it isn't fair
I want and need this in my possessionMy head becomes swollen from this disease
I'm yearning to be cradled and cared for
I'm hugging my body and begging please
I used to work hard but now it's a choreThey have a love I can't seem to afford
Please please please let me get what I want Lord
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YOU ARE READING
Eunoia
PoetryBehind every poem is a story too afraid to be told bluntly. . . . I intend to write to make you feel.