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Discarded
I feel so misused.
Ashamed and discarded.
Do you speak the truth?
Or have I been abandoned?
Again. Again. And over and over.
Alas this affliction...
Is this a joke?
Or a sick, sick addiction?
How could I do..
What I did to myself?
How can I yelp a plee?
When there is no one to help?
Misused. Discarded. Disoriented.
How can I wail?
When there is no one to listen?
And I feel like garbage,
Yet again this awful baggage.
Past the point of no return,
My Soul indefinitely serrated.
There goes my hope.
With my dejected addiction.
There goes my Soul.
With my ceaseless depression.
it's a great poem with rich theme and questions based like the following stanza...which is great but you are not that you think here about yourself..but every thing being a sweet and honored poetess... any way the stanza is impressive and like it...
There goes my hope.
With my dejected addiction.
There goes my Soul.
With my ceaseless depression.