Somewhere hidden
The bully cries.
His tears in anguish
Drip, drip...
There goes his pride.
He is not in sober
Nor living in despair.
But he goes on anyway.
For the person who knew him by heart,
The person who held him steady,
And the person
who breathed gentle whispers
Is his own victim.
YOU ARE READING
Everyone
PoetryThis book is a compilation of monthly poems, which will tackle mostly about the lives & personalities of different people. Whether my words or my characters are real or not, I believe this is worth sharing.
