gossamer wings hiding the black soul underneath crystal eyes hiding the dark pit behind if you could see the

i’m tired of this old pain i face day by day it’s time that i should leave but i’ve

The wind blows softly across the meadow carrying the whispers of tomorrow’s sorrows If you listen closely

They say she died tragically It’s sad to see a

splish, splash floating in my own blood so many cuts that i’ve actually

A whisper fades on the evening wind along with the hope of tomorrows friend Yet there is a

A poem about rhyme A poem abou time What can you say About their little fray Thee is never time

I’ve probably had about ten shots now trying to drown out her memory We left under harsh words, tears, and shouts