I Am

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  • Lost Love

    I Am

    I am what you made me,
    Something close to obscene.
    Just a little vulgar,
    But much to pristine.
    Begging you to change me,
    Into what you need.
    Praying that you’ll keep me,
    Even if I have to bleed.
    Knowing this isn’t real
    Or even close to being.
    But keeping me alive
    Without any meaning.
    Tell me everything.
    Even what you hide.
    I can bring your dreams alive
    Even though you lied.
    And I don’t think you understand
    How good things could be.
    Because the pain of getting there
    Is more then you can see.
    And how much destruction
    Could we stand to cause
    Tearing lives apart
    And breaking all the laws.
    So turn your back on me
    Whisper as you leave.
    I never meant to love you.
    Only to deceive.

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    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    dherrington’s Poems (25)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    blur 4
    What I need 0
    Hidden 0
    Rose 0
    Last Generation 1
    Echoes 0
    Escape 0
    Perfect 0
    Tact 0
    Destiny 0
    Slices of Reality 0
    Inside Me 2
    I See 0
    Sacrifice 1
    Grace 1
    Illusion 5
    Hidden 0
    Yesteryear 0
    Guile 1
    Deception 0
    Salvation 0
    Rage 1
    Voyage 1
    I Am 0
    Sold My Soul 3