At My Weakest
Im at my weakest when im curled up in a ball,
under my blankets,
clutching my teddy and finally when i cry myself to sleep.
How can you call me your friend when im such a dry baby?
I don’t deserve you at times.
Submitted: Sunday, July 31, 2011
Edited: Monday, August 01, 2011
Comments about this poem (At My Weakest by M.J. Henderson )
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