Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
There is no more freedom. I am ugly, or so she says. Worthless, her favorite word. Broken. She laughs when I cry. Why? What's wrong with me? Am I not good enough?
0
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
JDC
There is no more freedom. I am ugly, or so she says. Worthless, her favorite word. Broken. She laughs when I cry. Why? What's wrong with me? Am I not good enough?
KyMarie
Written by
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem