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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Gothic · #1087347
A poem of how I feel on a regular basis I guess you could say.
The pain hurts all through my chest,
Like fire scorching me at its best,
It is like life's final test.

The anger is as flaming as a torch,
Bruning me alive, burning me inside.

The pain is as cold as ice,
Cold like an icicle piercing trough my heart.
The anger is like a hole growing more and more,
Taking up the space,
This space that can never be replaced.

The pain and the anger is all I have left to feel.
The pain and the anger is taking up the mass.
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