United in sadness
o'er a wars
unavailing remorse,
these sorrowful eyes
of ours weep the
regrettable cries
of woe which pours
fastest o'er the fruitless
longing that forced
the hand that feeds
to clench into a fist;
a violence that too
many know,
and I
am no passerby in
this
-my house was supposed
to be a home.
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 6:07 AM UTC
United in sadness
o'er a wars
unavailing remorse,
these sorrowful eyes
of ours weep the
regrettable cries
of woe which pours
fastest o'er the fruitless
longing that forced
the hand that feeds
to clench into a fist;
a violence that too
many know,
and I
am no passerby in
this
-my house was supposed
to be a home.
