A voice inside my head
Telling me you should be dead
All those things you said
Now just fed
Pain to my now lead
Heart
Newly poisoned with hate
Trapped to an unjust fate
Willingly able to use this disease that ate
Away my disabled state
Using pity as a way to bait
You back
Now all I say
Is what the hay
Lovers can stray
Far enough away
From the blood spray
Always
Ben Smith
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/torn-and-sewn/
