Take your scalpel to my skin,
Make me your 'whole' again.
Cut me open with your knife,
to do what you'll feel will drain me of this strife.
My heart, my brain, underneath you light.
Give me my pills to help me sleep at night.
Sew me up to make me 'new',
then watch me come undone at morning dew.
This cold, this numb you've gave,
gives little to learn and less to gain.
Yet still you'll over medicate,
what you'll underestimate.
I'm the one who'll shelter this blame?!
I'm the one who must be shamed...
It's...
My fault I feel this way.
I guess...
Its time for another surgery today.
YOU ARE READING
Magic and Tear Drops
PoetryMagic in the air. Tear drops. Yet I beg of you to stop, and read this book if you'd be so fair. A collection of thought provoking poetry. This is all my original poetry. All right reserved.
