Final Plea
11 April, 2005
Author: Mike
Creeping about in my room;
"Hurry, he'll be back soon."
Don't know what they're trying to find.
Maybe the thoughts locked in my mind?
Clues to my future, my present and past.
Words from my soul that out I have cast.
What do they want to see in there?
When'll they end the pretense that they care?
My heart's locked away in a silver box,
Never to be harmed by the words, like rocks
Chucked at me from afar.
Please save me from falling forever.
Going crazy, going mad.
Hiding behind smiles when I am sad.
Give me the will to live, to survive
Because soon I'll take my final dive.
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Comments on this poem/writing:
Yanny (82.19.1.176) -- Tuesday, April 12 2005, 07:59 pm I can only try to give you te will to live, to survive, I would love to be here for you to talk to. |
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