Ah, the reason recovers. Every repressed emotion and feeling of rage explained. Because the stinging pain left from the whip is only minuscule to the long-lasting and scarring pain that the giver dishes to himself. Oh, how sorrow only teaches me what I knew before. Life that looked greener only leaves me sorrowful, alone, and full of remorse.
When I thought I was taking a step towards a bright and helpful future, I looked down and feel back. Will I ever reach that step? That place that requires heartless souls and those who feel no pain. Will I ever get there in heart, not just words? Or, is there a way to get halfway so that pain is lesser to both parties?
I'm sorry.
'Her poetry is sad,
now that her outcome is known.
Every word forms another sad phrase,
revealing the troubles of her life.
She was crazy,
and lucky not to be heartbroken.
The last person who I was,
was someone I still am.'
No comments:
Post a Comment