Let's play a game,
Its called hang-man,
And try guessing what is wrong,
You say the wrong thing everyday
leading me closer to the chains
Of depression each day,
One step
One rope
And no more hope in her broken eyes
That resemble cracked windows
They say eyes are the window to the soul but mine is cracked and old.
They only thing I see is you and her
All I hear is you talking about her
All you think of is her
And now you've lied to me,
That's it. We have come to the end of this game.
I step on the chair and hang my head in shame
for this game has taught you
when people say the wrong thing
it will bring lots of pain
So congratulations for losing
This game.
Play again next time
Maybe then you will
Have changed.
YOU ARE READING
Loud Pøetry Spilled From The Quiet Soul
PoetryAll of these are mine. Not the Internet. Trigger warning. (Self mutilation, depression, anorexia, etc....) And my apologies if they aren't even slow to Bukowski or Anything....I just wanted to try
