Seeming alone in this circle of hate,
feeling stuck in a fistfull of fate.
Looking around, i'm always late,
Waiting to come in, i'm outside the gate.
These tears are my own,
for saddness is all I have known.
These thorns in my eyes,
bring the blood back to your lies.
So let us end it now,
so we will feel the lines of the sound.
Author notes
Written March 2nd, 2006
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good one
had to come and look for more...like what i am reading. thank you. has a nice flow to this one and i must admit a short poem is good as is the dark ones...nicely done
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