My Bed *

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I lay in bed,

And what do I see?

A dead little girl,

Who isn't me,

I try to get up,

But it's futile,

I find myself wanting to spill tears,

And, I do,

Because you will never understand,

What I still go through,

And, no matter what I say,

No matter how hard I try,

You don't believe,

And I understand why,

I have no proof,

I can't show how tired I truly am,

But, I want to,

You need to understand.

Short Poems [Book #1]Where stories live. Discover now