"Come inside this heart of mine,
feel the beat to the poets rhyme,
words they tumble, spilling pain,
tales of woe or love, again."
Poems about love, good and bad, real and imagined, sometimes beautiful, sometimes dark but always, always, from the...
His brave face was wearing thin proving more difficult to uphold cracks were forming pain was leaking he would soon be discovered as broken not whole.
Expectations too high on how he should feel wanted to scream out the hurt but no one wanted to hear so, he kept it all inside along with every memory of her.
As he wiped tears from his face roughly, with practised ease he met their gaze full on pleading for them to see he was drowning in sadness where was his lifeline?
Another drink, just one more to numb the loneliness in crowds alone amongst everyone another excuse, reason to leave to allow him his time to silently grieve the life he once knew.
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