Can you hear me now


Can you hear me now

take this pain away.take it all i cant bear it anymore.too many years i have covered the pain.worn a mask and just those around me i was me i was one knew i was dying inside.every second i was alive,every breath i took was the most painfull thing i ever did.and none took the time to notice the pain i felt inside,i reached out and no one would take my hand and help me up.i was drowning.slowly sinking into the black abyss that was my hell.and no one heard my cries,my screams for love understanding and left with him and it has never been the same.He took my hope my happiness my life my world.he has my angel and now hes gone and shall never return to me.In one night my world was taken away,one dark lonely night.My angel was taken from me and now im lost in this black abyss.Can you hear my cries now? Are they loud enough can you hear my screams as i slowly slip away.Some one save me.Some one take my hand and pull me out of this.Im tired of falling,im tired of sinking.I need an angel now.Is there an angel out there for me?Somewhere im begging.Are they loud enough now?Can you hear me Screaming?Some one help me.I dont want to bleed anymore.I dont want to die anymore.Some one save me.Will someone save me?Will someone make the bleeding stop?Can you hear me now?

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paskey commented on Can you hear me now


Only you can save yourself. The train stops for no one. The pain is everywhere. No one is immune. Different strokes for different folks but they are all wearing a game face. Even very famous, rich, beautiful and talented people, big and small. All wearing game faces. There is no field or arena great enough to assemble everyone all at one time. It's why music is written. I hear you and so do many even though you would deny. It's you that needs to hear the sounds of others.

IAMLIKEU commented on Can you hear me now


This poem reminds me of my poem entitled Agggghhhhhhhh It is a tight knot of pain and despair, woven around a story that is so commonly tragic. Let your poetry and your heart give you hope. life sucks, but we can learn to drink lemonade.

Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

brokenlilly’s Poems (7)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Jaded 0
When? 1
Can you hear me now 2
Immortality 1
Drift Away 2
what to say 0
Would They Care? If I Dared. 0