Life is not poetry.
The words flowing
so eloquently from your pen
are lies, illusions.
Stop fooling youself.
You are sad because you are a teenager.
The flower is just a brightly colored plant.
A rainbow is light refracing through water vapor.
Magic is dead, and he doesn't love you.
The reality is
people die every day
from something they can't see, can't hear.
wh!le y0u s i t s/o 's'elf'ish'ly' star-ing @ sailorssunsets
wondering how som3thing could be s.o.(s). {beautiful},
innocent! children have thier childhoods taken a.w.a.y
sick, diseased men
slink along the streets
looking for prey.
where is your poetry
when your body is being eaten away?
Author notes
I'm angry today.
Comments
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This is really good!
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^_^ Thank you so much!
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