The poems about him I have
yet to start
whatís left of the soul that I so desperately try
The world Iím cut off from by a knife that slashes too deep, so much that my life starts to seep,
It seeps through my open wounds from love and war,
When will I heal?
I wish that I was an eagle and oh how through the clouds I would soar,
Nothing now can be worse than before.
I feel like the welcome mat placed on your floor.
If only I knew why I loved you so un-willingly, then could I change?
No I think not because in order to change you would have to stay the same.
Iím tired of the sickness I feel when youíre gone,
Iím tired of losing this game when Iím only a pawn.
If you only knew how much I need to hear your voice,
This is slavery to your heart in which I have no choice.
A poem I try to create to write your wrongs,
But in the end I still know to whom I belong,
You replenish my worn and aching body with nurture and care,
And once Iíve rested and turn around your no longer there.
Why do you do this to me?
Your games are so unbearable,
Is this life of misery what Iím destined to be?
Your love is always in motion,
But alas, my love for you is as constant as the river that flows to the ocean.
Please god, save me from my own heart,
Rescue me from the life of poems about him I have yet to start.
This page was last updated on June 29, 2003 by the KIWW Webmaster.