Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2016
You treat me like schrodingers cat
And some times I just don't get that
I was alive when you slammed the lid
And now I'm as scared as a little kid
But you have to sort out your own head
And you leave me here filled with dread
Because when I really really need you
You act like you haven't a clue
Are you afraid my sadness will hurt you to much
That my agony will be to much for the touch
That's ok I'll keep it locked away
And maybe, just maybe one day
You'll lift the lid to look inside
Only to find out I have died
Pauline Morris
Written by
Pauline Morris  49/F/Southern Illinois
(49/F/Southern Illinois)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems