4/28/05

by Evie   May 3, 2005


Sitting here,
thinking of my past.
Pain flows in,
happiness didn't last.

I shed not one tear,
even when I think of my worst fears.

I hate when you get mad,
but today you say I lie.
That is why I pick up the knife,
and will get ready to die.

Every time though,
I stop before the blood leaks.
Next time though,
of blood, this room will reek.

With that I hid it all,
The knife, the pain.
I walk out side,
just as it begins to rain.

I hope the rain will wash it all way.
But for now only time can say.

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Latest Comments

  • 18 years ago

    by ~*mimi*~

    loooooooooool i hate bein mean ur poem was nice but hey read the poem b-4 u say things cuz i kinda am connected to my poems so it kilss when someone like u talks bout them n e ways nice poem bye!!!!

  • 18 years ago

    by ~*mimi*~

    oo wait omg i have no clue what ur poem means but whatever .wait!!! where have i heard that from uhhhhh omg YOU hun if u dont like it then dont comment cuz babe ur gonna be hearin alot from me wow how i write nice comments and omg u passed urz is the worst ever!!

    omg ur only 13 haram o yeah did i mention im arabic u shilickeh lolllllllllll

    by the way my poem is about a girl dieing

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