Mother, mother, please don't cry,
I didn't mean to hurt you.
Even though I'm not alive,
My love for you is still true.
Mother, mother, I couldn't take it,
It got too much for me.
My scars became my nightmares,
I couldn't bare the memories.
Mother, mother, I did not care,
You and I both knew,
I was far beyond repair,
It was worthless to continue
Mother, mother, don't blame yourself
you know it was all in my head.
It's not like you told me what I couldn't do,
And you would rather that I'm dead.
Mother, mother, I think I'm mistaken
I'm confusing you and I.
My Insanity is because of you making
Arrangements for me to die.
c.d.
a/n: the inspiration for this poem, well there isn't really much. this one was one of those that just came to my head.
YOU ARE READING
1:46 a.m.
PoetryA collection of poems, most written at extremely late, or should I say extremely early, times of the day, when my mind can truly bleed its thoughts onto paper.
