Eternally mine, all to hold.
It belongs in my life... part of my mold.
It sits in my soul thriving.
To death I'm slowly driving.
All over people and relationships past.
Always thinking about death coming fast.
I write poems when I'm in this mood.
Some are sad, some are mean and crude.
My poems should be a bible for my life.
All the scars caused by an Emotional knife.
I let myself get hurt too many times.
I should be sent to death for my emotional crimes.
I let Sara in, and mistook friendship for something more.
I want to hate her, hurt her and call her a whore.
I know that's wrong, So I repress my anger and hate.
I go along with it thinking it was only fate.
Passive and unresponsive is what I'm going to try.
Inside I'm shattered, misinformation, I want to cry.
To let my emotions fall free into the wind.
Just I just try to be normal, try to blend.
To be different, to be needed by someone.
That's my dream in life, but I guess my pain has only begun.

Another person I know gave up on life.
and decided to end it all with his knife.

10/20/2003

Posted on 10/20/2003
Copyright © 2025 Aaron Howard