I look into you loving eyes,
As you slowly fall asleep,
Why is it, my love dies,
While all others weep?
I will never get married,
Because you won't live again,
And after you get buried,
I couldn't handle men,
We will never love again,
Never have a child, or pet,
Because time is at the end,
And the date is now set.
Your feedback helps Diddle understand what's working
!!!! www.happycows.eu. Helo! รa Va? The name's Dana, Dana Dana, (Day.na). I'm 13, come from a big family of very... loud people, despite that I am quiet, and keep to myself. I like spongebob (He made me who I am today.) I usually write poems, sometimes a story, and blogs if I'm lacking in poetry ideas. 'One can be addicted to a certain type of sadness' unknown person, please stop writing about me. ยกยกยกยก
The road of heavy hearts. The house of broken dreams. The children as they cry. Behold her as she screams. Some faces just look empty. Some are filled with pain. They don't know what to do.
You use to be my world, everywhere I looked I saw you. Now that you've left what will I do. How do I get up and remember to breathe. How do I open my eyes and continue to see.
Tragedy rests on the wind. Carried on cold breath. You're falling into my arms. Mere moments before kissing death. Unspoken, shallow words. Rest lightly on pale lips. Soundlessly falling to the floor.
Losing the person you love is always the most pain you'll ever experience, Your life suddenly being turned into something it never was. The aching longing and loneliness in your empty chest.
There's flowers on the table Two settings used by one I watch the petals falling Heartache's just begun There's no you Postman came a callin' To put paper through my...
The light streams in. A noise screams through the silence; It didn't wake me. Insomnia has taken your place, I lie with it in bed at night. No sleep in which to dream; Maybe a blessing in disguise.
I stare into the blackness, Unable to sleep. My heart misses you too much. Like a knife stuck in me, deep. I stare into the blackness, My eyes sore and tired, but.
Red ink, Or maybe pink. Convincing myself it's not blood, But more likely red mud, It could be paint. No.
Want to join the conversation? Sign in to leave a comment.