PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Her Words are growing,

Each day I am knowing

There's no escaping her voice

And I don't have a choice.

I get scared of someone scaring me,

But it's only her screams...haunting...so clearly...



And I love her with a roses thorn

Sometimes I believe, she dreads I was born

She loves me in a beautiful dream

Where petunia's grow by a clear running stream.

And happiness lives not too far away

In reality, that is not her game.



Fright echoes around my soul

I kiss it goodnighht, all on my own.

I just want her to love me too,

The way that every child reseives in bloom.

All I ask is why oh why,

Does she not care when I cry?

They say all this is not true, maybe I'm paranoid.

But her actions send out a void...



And I love her with a roses thorn

Sometimes I believe, she dreads I was born

She loves me in a beautiful dream

Where petunia's grow by a clear running stream.

And happiness lives not too far away

In reality, that is not her game.



So I take my own hand, ask to one day understand.

Pretend I believe, So I can just breathe.

I take my steps, I start to relax...

One day I won't have to fight, for what is rightfully mine...