UNTITLED
Telling lies,
not alibis;
slipping into submission.
Agonize,
and terrorize:
worsen the condition.
Dead inside,
empty eyed;
destroyed by disarray.
A bona fide,
pushed aside,
Psyche gone astray.
All bite, no bark; warnings are a waste.
Every night, in the dark; mornings are debased.
Arrows shot into a hardened heart
can still damage, scathe, and scrape;
just because it’s been turned to stone,
doesn’t mean the heart can escape.
1 Comments, Questions, and Concerns:
i have a hard time with poetry.
i get bored reading them or just don't want to bother.
but yours, yours i always seem to enjoy reading.
yours always have a good rhythm and story.
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