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chelsea-hopkinsPoems
I can't write. This emotion is too complex to convey. With you out of sight, There isn't an easy way. To express my emotions, And how I truly feel. This motion, Is becoming so real. Letting my mind wander. It always leads back to you. As I sit and ponder, You haven't a single clue. I am hurt on the inside And my heart is broken. To sit here and cry With no words spoken. This pen and paper are all I know. Subconsciously expressing, Continuous growth. This is too depressing, But I can't let it show. I will sit here and write, Until the day, I wither up and die. There isn't any other way I know how to live my life. No matter, How bad I'm hurt Or what you say, This paper Won't leave me astray. So writing is what I have, And it will never leave my side. Answering my questions, Healing the scabs. Writing is here, To hold me when I cry. My life, and my soul Are in this. No matter how cold, Or treacherous the abyss, I always do this Without a single miss. Whenever I, Need to cry, Or feel as if I want to die, This pen will always stay true, Of expressing my emotions to you.
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Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
Life As A Poet
I can't write. This emotion is too complex to convey. With you out of sight, There isn't an easy way. To express my emotions, And how I truly feel. This motion, Is becoming so real. Letting my mind wander. It always leads back to you. As I sit and ponder, You haven't a single clue. I am hurt on the inside And my heart is broken. To sit here and cry With no words spoken. This pen and paper are all I know. Subconsciously expressing, Continuous growth. This is too depressing, But I can't let it show. I will sit here and write, Until the day, I wither up and die. There isn't any other way I know how to live my life. No matter, How bad I'm hurt Or what you say, This paper Won't leave me astray. So writing is what I have, And it will never leave my side. Answering my questions, Healing the scabs. Writing is here, To hold me when I cry. My life, and my soul Are in this. No matter how cold, Or treacherous the abyss, I always do this Without a single miss. Whenever I, Need to cry, Or feel as if I want to die, This pen will always stay true, Of expressing my emotions to you.
chelsea-hopkins
Written by
chelsea-hopkins
American
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
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