Is there anybody worth painful things?
Or is that just someone with wings?
The tearstains on my pillowcase?
The fake smile plastered on my plasitc face?
The sharp-cut edges of my broken heart?
Can no one see this pain is off the chart?
Is there anybody worth painful things?
Or is that just someone with wings?
The loneliness that's bottled up inside?
The comforting air I give on the outside?
The dark side of my personality?
The spunkiness of my creativity?
Is there somebody worth painful things?
Or is that just someone with wings?
YOU ARE READING
My Book Of Poetry- The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly
PoetryJust some poetry I have wrote. Yes, I might have a pretty good life, but my life is still rough. These poems reflect it all-- the good, the bad, and the ugly.
