Lost
There once was love in every single breath I took.
I lost my way
and
can’t even seem to look past
tomorrow to see the light that is right in front of my face.
I tend to bow my head with more than disgrace
Evil thoughts play over and over in my head.
I always wanted to be the one
who was physically dead-
sleepless nights and
countless dreams later...
I guess,
I forgot.
That life isn’t really what it seems.
Angela Stylz
Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.
Unknown Source
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| DONE | 2 | 07/08/2009 |
| My 21 Questions 4 U | 1 | 07/08/2009 |
| I write | 0 | 07/08/2009 |
| There comes a point | 1 | 07/08/2009 |
| open | 0 | 07/08/2009 |
| Poetic Destruction | 0 | 07/08/2009 |
| Lost | 0 | 07/08/2009 |
| My Reality | 0 | 07/08/2009 |
| The wage of sin is Death | 0 | 07/08/2009 |
| I | 1 | 07/08/2009 |
| What it isn't | 0 | 07/08/2009 |
| Time | 0 | 07/07/2009 |
| Pain | 1 | 07/07/2009 |
| Wanting | 0 | 07/07/2009 |
| Goodbye | 1 | 07/07/2009 |
| Alone | 1 | 07/07/2009 |
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