The sound of the droplets
Of rain can be heard
Inside my bedroom.
They were actually my tears
Flowing endlessly
Nothing seems to stop it.
The cuts on my wrist
Won't ease the pain and anger
I have accumulated.
Just let me end it.
YOU ARE READING
Pastel Yellow
PoetryI'm not so sure How are you able to see Through those thick-rimmed Glasses of yours To think that someone like Is pretty enough To be yours. What have I done For the Great King to Give me the most precious Reward I could ever acquire. ...
