it's hard out here,
i can tell you
little did i know
when i saw all of you leaving
of the pain you would experience
but now i do, too
and i understand
that maybe i left you alone
in your grey, grey home
i didn't know at all
i'm sorry
i didn't know
i feel bad
when i don't know what was worse
me loosing grip on you
or you ripping off my hand
to never give it back
YOU ARE READING
you could call it poetry
Puisipoetry I. just a small collection of poetry, thoughts, excerpts and playlists... they get better after a while ☆ please do not forget to vote if you like it ☆ please do not steal
