..... - Poem by Cynthia Ayres
His tears are getting stored up inside him like the devil himself
So very hurt with the pain inside him dying little by little.
He’s afraid of what his life will await
He plans it out with out ever getting it right,
He thinks that the bad will come,
But really the good will come, he just can’t find it.
Sitting in the dark lonely room crying those simple tears
What he doesn’t know, is that he has people around him that care.
He thinks because he messes up, that it’s the end
But there are few that love/care still with everything inside the dead soul.
We care, come join us in the dead now.
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- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye