1:
My own mother and brother hate me.
My own father and sister can't help me.
My friends are far away.
All night and day.
My heart is strangled in weeds of anger and sorrow.
My days are long and I am afraid of tomorrow.
It might be good... It might be bad.
But it is mostly very sad.
I will not let my heart get destroyed by hate.
I rather accept my fate.
It hurts a lot...
It's like someone fired a painful shot...
But I will carry my heavy burdens...
Without that my heart hardens...
It's really sore...
I will just wait some more...
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts that rhyme
PoetrySometimes it's a story, sometimes it's just a thought or maybe a hidden message. But one thing they all have in common is that they rhyme. (Or supposed to)
