A story
Is a testimony.
A tale spun anew
Only left my mind askew.Truth and lies
In every hue and dye.
Followed by trust
That dies with rust.Companions not I
They all are a lie.
Who should I be?
For them to vouch for me.To them I am nothing.
To me they were everything.
A bit of trash
Where anything can clash.All these years together
I thought it would last forever.
Just to be hit
With betrayal's shit.I wait for all
Just to fall.
My life wasted
Because I trusted.No two stories were the same.
Leaving only me with false shame.
This crime was not mine.
But the true culprit will shine.The system not knows justice
As I paint red on my wrist.
I'm only a victim.
My life only becomes more dim.With every creation,
Every innovation,
A saga is told.
Inked in bold.A fairy tale within my soul.
Within each and every pull.
Each story has more drama.
In the prisoner's dilemma.
YOU ARE READING
The Pathetic Poet
PoetryAll of my original poems. A rare insight to my whimsical mind. If found anywhere else without my notice, I will report. New entries to be added when they are to be added.