Razors In My Pillow Poem by Roxy Kovács

The ships are sinking,
And you have a questionable feeling,
You're trying to understand,
How is that I ripped out my blood-soaked heart,
And put it in your hands,
For you to toss it out and jump the fence.
It's possible that the redness gave you some common sense,
Or the responsibility seemed way too intense.
The golden age is beyond the pages,
I could fantasize about them for ages.
It's like I still feel the salt in the air,
I bet you wouldn't think that I still care.
And now that all the bridges burned down,
None of those old places feel the same in this town.
None of those benches are worth to pass by,
None of those memories are worth to cherish now.