The grip on my heart
Tightens with each squeeze.
The love I once felt
Slowly drains within me.
I die alittle each day,
With each bit of drama.
There's noone to stop it,
It's all from my mother.
I dread each day,
Each letter, call or text.
Seems it's just another heartache;
One that can't be fixed.
Will things ever change?
Will they get better?
Will it ever stop?
this one always makes me want to cry and cradle you in my arms.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem! this is a sad poem