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The Form of You

What makes you?
Is it the rain, or
The searing pain,
From the rasp of a word
Hushed, yet heard,
Carried aloft by the
Harsh winds of hate?

What breaks you?
A lover once lost
To Winter's slow frost,
Bitter tears you've shed
When overcome with dread,
Brought from the depths of
The thoughts you abate?

Who are you?
Why do you?
What is it you see?
Tell me, friend,
When our time's to end,
Will you still see me?



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Raven_RayneThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Sept. 3, 2012 at 10:44 am:
Absolutely amazing work here. This poem is very relatable to thoughts and feelings I've had. Wonderful job here!
 
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