With a bottle against your lips
You forget about the pain
A line of your wrist you strip
With crimson droplets of rain

How I wish I could understand
What goes on in that cimmerian mind of yours
To finally see first hand
What goes on behind closed doors

Ingress me with your life
I plead for pass and key
Your actions cause you grief and strife
If only you would listen to me

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem