Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Sick of this life Sick of the trials Sick of the things that don’t make it worthwhile Sick of the beatings and words that can hit Sick of the men who love other girls **** Enough of the trying To fit in at all Enough of pretending I’m happy you call You want my attention But it’s just a farce You really just want to be noticed by **** Which, incidentally, is a really **** way To speak of the women You *** to each day In lieu of my island With beaches and sand I’ll wander away... by my own hand.
0
Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 10:37 PM UTC
My end
Sick of this life Sick of the trials Sick of the things that don’t make it worthwhile Sick of the beatings and words that can hit Sick of the men who love other girls **** Enough of the trying To fit in at all Enough of pretending I’m happy you call You want my attention But it’s just a farce You really just want to be noticed by **** Which, incidentally, is a really **** way To speak of the women You *** to each day In lieu of my island With beaches and sand I’ll wander away... by my own hand.
Written by
Australian
Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 10:37 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem