The cycle

Love turned into hate quick
It grew inside of me
Everyday like something that was being fed
All this suffering and torment is all to real
My mind plays games with itself and hurt is the only thing I feel
How am I suppose to move on in this life
When all we do is work towards our death bed

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem

This Poems Story

There has to be more to this life