To Write
Blood spilled, tears fell
sadness would not dispel
Eyes cried, words sighed
laying bruised because I tried
Still I bled into this bed
of slain memories and pain
sheets so red and hearts so dead
is it any wonder now that I write
late into this lonely night
Have I given up this fight?
a heart so wrong, can it ever beat right?
Copyright © John Allen | Year Posted 2007
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