Untitled
With bloodied hands, clutching what is dear.
Held tight for so long entirely out of fear.
Drifting so far from what used to be near.
This last stand I made that nobody can hear.
Chains strewn about, yet none to bind.
Looking for a reason I can't seem to find.
From a world I live in and got left behind.
The hand no longer ticks, forgotten is the time.
Who am I? This Saint nor Sinner.
I drink till I'm numb, my suffering liver.
My lies forced to eat, served a fools dinner.
Adept towards lies but for truth a beginner.
View User's Journal
My Mind
im gonna give you my opinion on life and its many hardships
ALSO I WRITE ALL MY OWN POETRY PEOPLE !!!