Oct 2013
Her voice spits hatred but her heart seeps peace. Why can't she voice the opinions the breathes? The only way to express it is to bleed. The razor makes pain but it makes her not feel. The darkness has shown her that it is the king. She puts her fingers on the frets and then starts to sing. "Pain, pain don't go away, stay for just another day. I have no more that I can say, lets just hope death is on it's way."
Now, just saying. This poem is really old, just something I found in an old journal. So if it's not good, please don't mind. It's just special because it's from when I started better at writing.
