Poetry

Oh how I love that feeling, deep inside;
Where all I want to do, is go and hide:
Cause disappointment, scolds my soul within;
I learnt to pretend, I dont have a heart;
An act to cease, it being torn apart;
As the emptyness, continues to form;

silver drops fall from my eyes, you dont care;
not from your perch, all of the way up there;
Hunched over my vunerability;
A scarlet drop, lands on bleached white;
Hey there, Mr. Grim, it has been a while;
I didnt see you, shrouded in the mist;

As I hold my last breath, I see my life;
Soar past my vision, sharper than the knife;
amiliar feelinFgs, of pain and pleasure;
This limeric is not suicidal;
But poetic art of my survival;
The everlasting struggle, this is LIFE;