I was with my willing father.
he's never quite right.
he yells and screams.
he says mean things.
I believe.
I cry myself to sleep.
with my head in my hands.
it hurt to know the feeling.
when a love one dose not care.
if you live another day.
YOU ARE READING
my poetry life.
Poetryit all began on a winters day. when we set in that seat talking about are day. you told me I was special. I believe your special lies. you told me you love me. I gave you my hart. I've never felt this way before in my life. I've always been...
