WrongA Poem by the writer of woeWhat is right?
Lonely, desolate
Were we made to feel like pain and suffering? Were we supposed to enjoy this? What is humanity? Is it civilization? What is civilization then? My heart aches for this feeling of love. I feel the bullet pass through my gullet in hate. I lose myself in the sweet music I lose my feeling in this hold As I lose my hearing in this sound This cannot be for what it truly is. Are we just toys in another's hands? Is the heart of the needle where the blood is? What about the dead, cold blood? This world is truly wrong. © 2015 the writer of woeAuthor's Note
Reviews
|
StatsAuthor
|