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Cut

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Cry, sigh, smile,

You know what;

Looks and knives,

And words that cut

 

Make me hate you,

Make me care,

I don't like

The way you stare

 

Stare, glare, laugh,

smile and cry, but,

Glass and knives

Aren't all that cut

The End
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Author guidance for This poem

Lyre I seem to be haunted by single words.

I am not an unhappy person! Promise! (I am not on drugs, either)

That said, try to imagine drug-induced dreams. I realize these poems are confusing, so please keep that in mind. Also, if you don't like the content, just navigate away from my page. This will save us both grief. Thanks :)
updated Oct 23 '09 by Lyre

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1 PARTICIPANT IN THIS POEM

Lyre Lyre 24 pages

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Lyre You're currently reading the poem Cut, which was posted on Oct 21, 2009 by Lyre.

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