I've run out of words to say,
The pain is taking over,
All I can do is feel,
And I can't speak at all.

Stop.
Just stop.
Stop blaming me,
You're the one who was abusing me.
You're the one who hurt me.
So just stop.
Please.

Tic, tock.
Tic, tock.
The clock is running out on you and me.

Tic, tock.
Tic, tock.
I'm sorry because I know that you blame me.

Tic, tock.
Tic, tock.
Stop blaming me for your mistake.

Tic, tock.
Tic, tock.
Your abuse has stopped.

Help.
I'm drowning in a river of tears.
Help.
Can you please save me from this horrible end?
Help.
Do you even care?

Helpless against you,
I can't do anything, but wait.
Wait for you to say something,
Wait for you to tell me that you still care.
But, I know that I am waiting on nothing.

My pretty little mask
Hides my face,
Protecting people from my sorrow.

My pretty little mask
Has a smile and bright eyes,
But it's been painted on.

My pretty little mask
Is breaking,
And now hints of sorrow are shining through.

My pretty little mask
Has disappeared
And now there is nothing left to protect anyone from me.

So you are bringing me pain
I tear at my face
Hoping the flesh will mold itself
Into something
better
I look like a zombie tonight.
Im tired of executing this fight.
I thought i could do this 'till i die
Truth is all I wanted to do was chase you.
And in the end the question is what did you even amount to?
I was willing to give up my skinny jeans,
Aviators
And band shirts
In turn for your attention and love
But you took me and made me a fool.
"All in the name of love"
I tried to be what you wanted
But what you wanted was a swimsuit model and a load of ca$h.
Im sorry,
But im not saying sorry to you.
Im apologizing to myself.
I was willing to wash myself away
For a girl.
And it seemed like my body and heart was shot at with an rpg.
But know,
I wish you
A very special
********

I have serious intentions
To break my limitations

If poetry dies
We all fall apart.
If poetry dies,
Will the sun not shine anymore?
Because the sun is poetic in its own way.
It radiates.
It illuminates.
It inspires.
And if poetry dies
Art dies.
Poetry is everything.
Its existed for centuries.
See this is brought people together since forever ago.
And today, it brings us together.
you and me
And whoever else's poems you delight yourself with.
We create a community.
Here
On this site.
People from all over the world.
Each of us with a story to tell
And one talent we show
poetry
Isnt it great?
A tradition that must live on.
The art of emotion
Some complex
Others delightfully simple.
Poetry
Creates us,
Our creativity
And the desire to write something new
Something **great