PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

the broken peices like glass in my hand
the puzzel before me layed opan the land
the peices are broken the mind dececed
its functions have ended its sorrows releced
But this life is mine so I will not let it go
the blood that drains apon the innocent snow
it will not end now not tonight not like this
not with thease hopes and the sligest of bliss
my hopes and dreams I hold them far to tight
so for this reason that is why i fight
to beat the clock and solve the puzzel of my life
to see if i shall be alone or an ever loving wife
my time to rush to push past the pain
to see what there words caould get me to gain
can i change the orld or even myself
or spend eternity as a freak on a shelf
what am I to be this i need to know
whaich way life will lead me which way do i turn
So i russ with thease peices so dangerous still
i rush to my life to have my own will
the power to get this blood of my hand
and not to be the one being fixed apon the land
for i have a reson a hope to be hear
a hertbeat to lead me away from the fear
a promise of love and forever in there arms
away from the world and all that it harms
so I fix myself and the blood washes away
and I go one repairing from day to day