Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
My body is a punching bag on display for you, waiting for your hands to meet me, when you hit me with the truth, it hurts. How can you not see the marks you leave on my soul? Why do you expect me to be the strong one, when you're the one gaining it all from me?
0
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 6:10 PM UTC
Boxer
My body is a punching bag on display for you, waiting for your hands to meet me, when you hit me with the truth, it hurts. How can you not see the marks you leave on my soul? Why do you expect me to be the strong one, when you're the one gaining it all from me?
Wow okay so I may still tweak this in the future.
treedee
Written by
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 6:10 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem