You keep all those thoughts inside
Say that you're alive,
Yet all you do is hide.
You deserve more than just to survive.
You say it's to keep the sad
Hidden and at bay.
But there's no good without bad,
Yet you still run away.
I know it's hard.
And I know it's sore.
To reveal a heart so scarred
And ask for something more.
Is it wrong for me to dream
That you'll fall and cry
So, you can break from this regime
Chaining you down so you can't fly.
YOU ARE READING
Lachrymose
PoetryLachrymose /ˈlakrɪməʊs,ˈlakrɪməʊz/ adjective tearful or given to weeping. A collection of amateur prose and poetry illustrating the inner turmoil. Mainly a dumping ground for loose thoughts and ideas to be interpreted in whatever manner.
