I look at you,
And I want to cry.
You make me so sick,
That I want to die.
The wrong and the pain,
The hurt and the sorrow.
You will never see my face,
Not today, not tomorrow.
You make me so mad,
That I see red.
It's the color of blood,
That I didn't want to shed.
You have tortured my heart,
You have played with my soul.
With all of this pain,
You will never ever know.
Back to Poetry
|