, by Aims
fleeting thoughts of regret
flood my mind,
drowning any sense of logic or pride
lost in the translation of your pain
embarked on the mission to your heart,
with the knife i took from my back
sickened by the thought of your touch
but seeking the thought of you
i long for you,
but You are nothing more than
|Posted: 2006-02-01 01:59:28 UTC|
|This poem has no votes yet. ||To vote, you must be logged in.|
To leave comments, you must be logged in.
|i tihink this is a really good poem. i couldn't stop reading it.
|I like the style... i wrote a poem like this, it's like a neverending cycle.