This is just a poem I wrote in about half an hour when I was feeling down. |
When I lay alone at night, With only my tears for company, It’s obvious who I need here, But you don’t feel the same. What seem like months of torture, Weeks of silent misery, All bottled up inside my head, With the echo of your name. They say that beauty is skin deep, That looks don’t matter that much, But I’m at the end of your spiteful tongue, And your words seem to sting as the touch. It’s painful to know I meant nothing to you, Just another name on your list, Of girls to degrade, mistreat and abuse, Then pretend they don’t even exist. Is it you have no true feelings? Or do you feel guilty inside? That you were once hurt so badly, by someone you cared for That you treat girls like dirt and then hide? Or maybe I’m making excuse, I’m weak, I still stand up for you, Perhaps it’s my inkling, my glimmer of hope, That some kind of emotion gets through. If something so small and worthless, Can still reduce me to tears, Why is it, I cling to some grave kind of hope, That someday soon you’ll be near? Perhaps I’m not much of a person, That’s why you gave up, don’t you see? On a love and a friendship meaning nothing to you, But still meaning the world to me. At the end of the day though, the crying, And weeping and torment will cease, And day by day, I’m certain, The sadness will slowly decrease. And as the days become brighter, The tears on my pillow will dry, There’ll soon be a way, at last for me to say, A loving, but honest, goodbye. |