My Pen
The blade is my pen,
For me to carve out the words of pain.
My skin is the paper filled with words of pain,
And the blood is the ink that flows down like a bitter rain.
As I watch the droplets of the hurt,
And as I feel my head get lighter and lighter.
Slowly as the droplets hit the ground,
My face seems to turn whiter and whiter.
My heart truly desires for the end to come tomorrow,
And I know the hatred that lies behind my eyes.
I tried to cover up all my hatred and sorrow,
That was caused by people spreading lies.
I tried to act happy in life,
Now I sit here with nothing to say and alone.
And as I sit here wishing life could have been better,
Now there is so much that will be unsaid and unknown.
By WindDancer
© 2010 WindDancer
(All rights reserved)
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