deepundergroundpoetry.com

Broken

No day goes by
without thought of suicide
I miss you, though the thought's not mutual
i feel as I had been trampled
Like a sweet, sweet rose
you left me in the dust
This grave, where I lay
wishing to see your face
No one to wipe the tears away
and as I lay on my deathbed
I thought I heard your voice
I was mistaken
You never came.
Written by Jak
Published
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