deepundergroundpoetry.com
I Am Her, But She Is Not Me.
And though my eyes are dry
I feel the tears spill
A bottle of pills does cry
For me as I commit a kill
This is an ugly crime
Some saw it coming, some did not
The murderer was time
Their efforts were for naught
Some shed tears for her
Some mourn over her body
But for her there is no color
She is hurt too badly
They couldn't see the wounds
Even as they cared
Even as her sadness fumes
Mercy never came to spare
She sat alone for too long
Even as they sat around her
Now she is long gone
Now her memory is a blur
Her life was out like an ember
Caught in a storm of rain
She doesn't want to be remembered
Doesn't want you to have her pain
That's why she held it in for so long
Held all the misery close
Even though it was wrong
She goes where the wind blows
You can still hear her merry song
In the soft breeze
A song etched in agony all along
This was her disease
I feel the tears spill
A bottle of pills does cry
For me as I commit a kill
This is an ugly crime
Some saw it coming, some did not
The murderer was time
Their efforts were for naught
Some shed tears for her
Some mourn over her body
But for her there is no color
She is hurt too badly
They couldn't see the wounds
Even as they cared
Even as her sadness fumes
Mercy never came to spare
She sat alone for too long
Even as they sat around her
Now she is long gone
Now her memory is a blur
Her life was out like an ember
Caught in a storm of rain
She doesn't want to be remembered
Doesn't want you to have her pain
That's why she held it in for so long
Held all the misery close
Even though it was wrong
She goes where the wind blows
You can still hear her merry song
In the soft breeze
A song etched in agony all along
This was her disease
Published 25th Aug 2013
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