Touch of pain
Why do you touch me?
you pull my hair when i'm not looking
and touch my back when i don't see
why is it that you touch me?
Your the moths by the windowsill
peering in to see the lights
but i don't understand
because i don't have lights.
I thought i was independent
and then discovered i was anything but
i am demure and quiet, and let everyone push me by
you'd never call me shy, but i could be a giver.
No one cares about me
except when they think they do
but no one ever truly cares
not about anyone.
They say a pretty face doesn't matter
its a stupid lie they want to believe
they want to believe the world is good
but truth is, it is harsh.
I wanted to be a writer
so they had to crush my dreams
because ambition and hope
can't compeat with shallow lives.
Comments about this poem (Touch of pain by rains of bloom )
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