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Aug 2015
Invested trust, so poorly spent,
Even the stars have somehow bent.
Crippling doubt, head has a glitch.
Agony thrives, heart's on the fritz.
Relentless gripe, slow to succumb.
Desolate soul, coming undone.
Chartered chaos, hanging the noose. Afflicted love, won't cut me loose.
Demise of dreams, spoken too soon.
You, my love, did not hang the moon.
Amanda Ray
Written by
Amanda Ray  New York
(New York)   
986
   Mike lowe
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