My Heart

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  • Lost Love

    My Heart
    My heart is aching, my mind is racing.The pain hurts, can't stop know, gotta get threw. Tears falling, pain throbing, what do i do? Numb stuned, blood everywere. No clue. Eye's blind, hiding behind the bathroom door. Hand cut, mouth shut. Passing out. The pain hurts. Suicidle, afraid, depressed. Someone help! Do I stop? Do I go? What should I do? As I start to think about my life. The knife falls, I start to call.....FOR HELP!

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    WrittenWorld’s Poems (27)

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