The Shape

The shattered red shape is scattered

In pieces sharp, it bleeds pain

They love, but in real eyes is just useless loyalty

About me, they are wrong, they don't use thier minds

About you, they are dead wrong, you are wonderful youth

For them I cry tears, for they have no experience on the word "tainted"

For "tainted" means "destroyed in an evil fashion", keep thoughts like this

About you, I am dead right, I love my wonderful youth

About me, I am unsure, all I know is maturity

My Love is nothing close to loyalty

In pain I know there is love withing the pieces

Though scattered, in time I'll collect in correct sequence

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed