Sitting in the cornor
in a dark quiet room
all alone
with all my things all packed up
wondering where I'm going to go
not know the next time your going to blow
So i sit there with no emotions to show
red tears coming down my face
for the things you have made me store in my head
feeling the cold sharp razor blade hit my skin again for the things that you have made me do or said
A knife in the back
A literal backstab
For I have been alone since the beginning of time
Believing that loneliness is forever my life
By: Kasia
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem