The eyes upon thou face,
similar to pieps, broken pipes,
under a sink where a puddle lies,
the broken pipes leak
with a silent drip,
no one can hear or see it,
no one notices, so no one cares,
it continues to leak,
drop after drop,
eventually it begins to rust,
slowly decaying,
it's as if it's bleeding to death,
the pipes looked as if they were once new,
half deayed, half new,
now the puddle is visible,
everyone gets angry
over this leak,
that was once just a single
drop upon the bottom of a sink,
everyone argues
over this leak,
they yell,
they pull everything out
from under this sink,
they finally take off this decaying pipe,
the next day there's another pipe in it's place,
no drip, no puddle, no rust,
Why would people get angry
over a pipe that leaked?
Would people get angry
over a child that cried?
If you like it Great, if not oh well. JUST PLEASE BE HONEST WHEN COMMENTING MY POEM/S!!
Comments
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Metaphorical
I started reading this poem and i thought about a bleeding heart, how when people cant see it, they dont care. but if they can, then they have to try to fix it. I really liked it.

