Dangerous Weapon, of sorts

by Nikkicola   Jan 25, 2008


I'm writing down words that I know will never rime
Whats with this useless thing called time
It never heals it only breaks
eventually to fall asleep then never wake
learning that it's a dangerous weapon, of sorts
but it can't take away my well thought out smirk
I have the advantage here...can't you see
Nothing will and has yet to out smart me
I'm growing to tried to care of all the befores
Things that mattered once don't matter anymore
It's almost as if I have no reason to live
I gave you my heart when I did'nt have one to give
And you did'nt realize how you made me whole
Staring at a ground thats fading to slow
Heres one thing I know now, it's reality not a wish
I can't grow old, if its not you... that I grow old with

0


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments