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    ME

    IMPERFECTION STANDS BEFORE ME
    MORE WRONG THEN RIGHT HAS BEEN DONE
    I FEEL THEIR EYES STARING AT US
    BEGGING FOR ME TO SAY YOUR NOT THE ONE
    WITH EVERY WRONG DECISION YOU MAKE
    WITH EVERY IMPERFECT MOVE
    THEY STAND THERE WAITING ON THE OTHER SIDE
    TRYING TO GET ME ALL CONFUSED
    THEY SAY OUR LOVE ISN'T HEALTHY
    THEY SAY TO ME YOU ARE NOT TRUE
    LITTLE DO THEY KNOW
    WITH EACH CRITICIZING WORD THEY SAY
    ITS ME THEY ARE HURTING NOT YOU

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    WordSlinger commented on ME

    03-11-2009

    very true indeed

    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    butterfl33’s Poems (17)

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