My poetry
Expresses me
There is no other way,
Instead of speaking, I write what I should say.
Living through this tension that can be cut with a knife,
The knife - those words of emotional violence won't take my life,
Stab my back - it has been so many times,
Then writing and think of rhymes.
All you doing is stirring my creativity
By trying to get to me mentally
Knowing my extreme sensitivity
It's about time you realise you don't get to me - face reality.
Stab my chest,
Take my heart - then will you rest?
Even though I won't beable to feel
I can still think on paper my thoughts will become real.
Cut out my eyes
Then I cannot see
Your false smile and your fakeness through your lies
And the evils that lurk before me.
Why not cut my ears off - I dont want to
Hear you
Why can't you see
You don't get to me and no matter what you say or do
You cannot destroy me
My spirit is immortal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow! ! so much passion in that poem. keep it up Tracy!