deepundergroundpoetry.com

I Pray

I lay silently in my tent
Three knives on my chest
Praying, hoping, wishing
That the lighting would stop
The beating of this broken heart
The storm hits my tent with
Full force, natures fury unleased
My tent just a casualty
I stare at the tents ceiling
The raindrops dark against
The bloodred fabric
And I accept my failures
Accept that I feel too much
Care all too much for them
My mother would cry if I died
My father would weep as well
My stepmother would cry too
My siblings would sob for me
But why can't they love me now...
Why do people care only when we die?
Written by BlueBeastGirl (Beasty)
Published
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