I cry but you do not hear.
You hear but you do not care.
Blame I take,
strength I fake,
and all my smile
never was a truth but lie.
A tough one I am not
and never will be.
Give me,
please,
the joy from thee.
I accept it not
nor I want it,
but give it to me
for I deserve it.
Not,
please,
from an almighty pretense.
If a disguise you are,
start to walk away now
for a hell I've been
and you're not my heaven.
YOU ARE READING
She
Poetry"A book is she that has countless pages, blood is her inks, and her pain writes." This story contains prose and short poetries that is all about a woman's point of view of love and life.
