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RagePoems
Stinging. I build myself up higher Not even your fire can burn me down Stone Cold Alone But  alright Fighting you Fighting light No fun while I’m young Because I am a flower I have to be picked Picked because you admire My sweet smell, color, desire Nothing to eat Process and excrete Nothing to use Then leave **** you and your kind You make the world hard Scared, battered and bruised Lips like these will never please, A stupid degenerate like you. *Sad thing is I have never let boys like that in, but they still break my heart. They let something turn them into a monster, tear them apart. You are worth being loved, but you feel its to far. *
0
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 3:17 PM UTC
Said the Stranger to the boy, who had died a long time ago.
Stinging. I build myself up higher Not even your fire can burn me down Stone Cold Alone But  alright Fighting you Fighting light No fun while I’m young Because I am a flower I have to be picked Picked because you admire My sweet smell, color, desire Nothing to eat Process and excrete Nothing to use Then leave **** you and your kind You make the world hard Scared, battered and bruised Lips like these will never please, A stupid degenerate like you. *Sad thing is I have never let boys like that in, but they still break my heart. They let something turn them into a monster, tear them apart. You are worth being loved, but you feel its to far. *
Rage
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Rage
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 3:17 PM UTC
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