he breaks his own heart cause he knows it's second best
he's got a lot to say but keeps it his chest
he walks around at night pacing his own room
contemplating suicide but to weak to go through
he keeps a photo of her hidden on himself
he'd rekindle their love if he hadn't lost his health
so he sets himself up just to take another fall
with no one to help him up he'll settle on his crawl
and he can't ever sleep at night
because he know he's lost the fight
but in the morning everything will be alright
he'll take his medicine that keeps himself alive
it's not that he's dependant
or the fact that he's full of resentment
it's not that he's lost the will to live
when you've lost everything there's just nothing left to give
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My writings and poems
I don't think i'm a good writer. I don't even think I'm good at anything, and if you want to waste your time reading these so called 'poems' go right ahead. I'm just sorry they're not as great as I would like them to be.
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