March 3, 2009
By Epidemic SILVER, Racine, Wisconsin
Epidemic SILVER, Racine, Wisconsin
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Fatal love broke my heart,
But you became my stitches.
My heart is mended slowly,
Through the bumps and ditches.
Days fade from shining rays,
While I await your glory.
This is not the way it stays,
In this ending story.
Stitches are taken out,
Or sometimes even broken,
So take my wounded heart,
As a freaking token.
You've done what they all do,
So now you can go be glad.
I guess it doesn't matter,
I'm used to being sad.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book

Parkland Speaks

Smith Summer