The Poet Bleeds
The wind blows the grass grows breeding tons of weeds deep inside in her own private hell the poet bleeds she curses life all its troubles and sorrows she prays each day please god take away the tomorrows she doesn't understand the games people must play she will never get why life just seems to HAVE to be that way her heart aches is all of full of cracks she knows deep inside there's no turning back… she loves but only one-sided when she reaches out to obtain otherwise she's chided… she bleeds and bleeds and bleeds and bleeds no one cares she knows this now the wind continues to blow the grass eternally grows giving endless birth to all those choking weeds and deep inside her own private hell the poet continues to bleed. Written March 20th, 2002 © on Mar 20 2002 02:24 PM PST 18 • 0 • 1
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"The wind blows..."