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everytime i try to love,it makes me cry
wishing to fly..far away from myself
but now is see,the only way out of this missery
the way to die..
but im still here,on this cold world
body from flesh and blood,but with an imortal soul
behind al the filth,i try t osee the goal
there is no light in my darkness
becouse the only thing is see is dirt
thinking about her,the whole day
my feelings are like barb-wire
but still having that great desire
to be beloved and someone whos carring about me
another reality,but thats the way it had to be
now its to late,sitting in my room with a sharp opject
trying to change the thing everybody suspects
a whole new chapter in the book of life
sitting here thinking and playing with my knife
still keeping damaging my body parts
there is no end when it starts
so much pain,you cant describe
i have to stay alive..to write
but anyway,who`s comming out on top?
not me becouse i`m a born loser
and you? the man? are my soul abuser

hmmz niemand comentaar? :eek: :eek: :eek:

Hij is mooi..., verdrietig wel...

gaat dit gedicht helemaal over jezelf? sterkte anders :(

tenks,alles wat ik schrijf gaat over mij zelf.
dat doet er niet toe,belangerijkste is goede kritiek op mijn gedichten zelf. :)