Ice running throught the veins of a beloved one,
You sit and watch hopelessly knowing there's nothing left.
You want to try but you're confused, what can you do?
Knowing there isnt anything you can physically do to help, you do the next best thing.
You embrace him, care for him. You let him know that as long as he lives, he will be cared for and that he is loved.
Thats what everyone longs for. Love. Love is power, it will corupt, and it may go bad.
Wanting to know that everything will soon be ok, can never really be assured. So why do we assure it?
Now this poem is turning, from one thing to another, because the sorrow you feel may turn to anger.
To tell a man that he will be loved is to give him hope, but when you tell a man he will never be loved it crushes him.
Not just his self-esteem, but his soul. His confidence. You destroy every aspect of him.
To tell him that he shouldnt live, It convinces him, He believes it. Not because just one person that said it,
No, Its because you said it. You, the person who he trusted, the person he cared about. The person he loved and did everything for.
It wasnt enough that you took it for graunted, but you stabbed him in the back and then twisted the knife.
You are the reason he is dying. You are the reason he doesnt have confidence. You are the reason he let his life go to hell. You are the reason for his miserableness.
You are the reason that he no longer has a smile on his face when looking in the mirror.
You, are whats wrong with him, and the rest of the fucking world.
