Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2012
The idea is elusive, far to difficult
For you to grasp. That I am right here,
waiting to be loved.
I wish I would just die. The welcome friend.
Is sympathy so hard to give to me?
No one can bear to look my frightful
state; eyes blurred, mouth tightened,
hands trembling as I stare.
Aubrey Rose
Written by
Aubrey Rose
562
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems