Posted on September 4, 2016
Oh how they know how,
A dance of callousness,
A long silent stream of pain
(to the veins).
Oh it isn’t them,
It is merely your own
Stifled, tortured soul.
This entry was posted in Poetry, Sad mumblings and tagged alone, dark, difficult times, distorted, life, lost, love, melancholy, pain, poem, poetry, relations, sad, thoughts.
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