I'm tired,
of sheding a million tears.
of feeling bitter,
of my stupid fears.
I'm tired,
of flashing the brightest smiles,
of hiding my damp eyes.
I'm tired of giving in,
everytime.
Of crying alone.
Of confessing lies.
Of hiding.
Of goodbyes.
And I'm tired now,
as I lay in bed,
wounded, my scars deep.
And yet,
She still holds onto me.
A stranger.
That old lady.
YOU ARE READING
The Poetry She Wrote. ✔
Poetry- Poems by a twelve years old / written in 2016 - - - - There are a million poetry written, of all sort. This book holds poetry, that was written for a girl. A stranger, created in ones mind, hidden from...
