Look Out Princess...Your Tiara Is Slipping

Write a song.

Write a book.

Anything to distract your mind,

From another nasty look.

Lower your head,

Pretend your okay.

But you cry rivers,before you reach your bed.

If they knew,

What they do to you,

They'd never do it.

They've destroyed your life.

They've destroyed your song,

And your book,

Through one more painful,nasty look


The End

0 comments about this poem Feed