How will they view me, I hope they will be nice, begging for friends, often comes at a price.
Fears fill me again, this has gone on for years, maybe one day, I will be released from these fears.
How will they view me, I hope they will be nice, begging for friends, often comes at a price.
Fears fill me again, this has gone on for years, maybe one day, I will be released from these fears.
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Started writing poetry officially in 1991, enjoy reading Edgar Allen Poe, reading and dissecting the Holy Bible, and listening to beautiful/inspiring people. Age has no bearing on creativity. Some of the most beautiful things come from those of much lesser age and life experiences. So listen to those young people!
Sure love is great, love gives hapiness love gives faith, but baby have you thought about all the hate. All the lies and all the late night cries?.
Here I am This is me And I am stronger Then you ever thought I would be....
She paints a perfect picture But here's the shocking twist The paintbrush is a razor and the canvas is her wrist.
A dark lonely room, emptiness left by sin, when will I be forgiven, when will my rebirth begin. Can I ever be clean, what can make it right. Will I ever be forgiven, in their condescending sight?.
I slide on my shoes And pull up my hair. I pull on my dress Acting like I don't care.
I spend hours drawing your face I'll use detail at a slow pace The picture will show the true you Kind and beautiful because that's what you do.
Bitter, caustic ice, The fear of filth perceived; Shudder, I'll pay any price To of this be bereaved..
Fear of pain, so gingerly Totter, frail, falling weak, Falling back to simply When all is stewing bleak..
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