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Leaving Song (Part III)
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Dark Poetry A trembling voice say, 'please don't leave.'
Another says it's over.
What to do but lie awake and let the tears roll down your face?
It's over, they say, walking away--leaving you glazed with a stained mask of sorrow.
You'll never change, they say, as they deem you as poisonous.
Why--what--you wonder, did you do?
To constantly find yourself in this torturous position.
Music plays in the distance, an uncomfortable melody that makes your insides sicker.
So you walk away, as they say, you'll never change.
Shut it off--shut it down.
Your mind screams.
Smoke exhales in frustration.
And you walk away.
