Below is the poem entitled The King Of Pain which was written by poet
Boleyn. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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He only thinks that I am fake,
Even when I sit and shake,
Although I’ve done things in the past,
I left it all so we would last.
I don’t know what I am meant to do,
To prove to him I can be true,
He only sees the wrong and hate,
He never sees his one true mate.
All I am I’ll give for him,
I’ll kill myself for both our sins,
Yet he thinks it’s just a ploy,
And in this game he is just a toy.
I could write our names in blood,
Yet he’d only stand and shrug,
Cut out my heart for him alone,
He would not notice till I moan.
I know he loves me deep inside,
And still he thinks he has to hide,
I know when nothings left,
He is only happy when he’s in death.