She can't sing
For her life,
High, empty octaves and
Missed pitches.
She can't draw
Worth anything,
Scribbled messes and
Strange faces.
She can't smile
Without effort,
Stretched lips and
Sore cheeks.
She can't,
But that doesn't mean she
Doesn't try.
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Painful Truths
PoetryLife asked Death, "Why do people love me but hate you?" and Death replied, "Because you are a beautiful lie and I am a painful truth." (completed) Well. Poems, if you could call them that. Just rambled and rushed night time thoughts. Some of these a...
