Why is it
i feel mocked by everyone and everything
even myself sometimes
while i sit here
listening to the rain
why
do i feel the need
to pull my own hair out?
what good will it make?
to feel the pain...
or to feel in control?
but for words i dare not say
is there hope in these dark days
but what good will that hope be?
will it just be destroyed like the rest.
bethany seed
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dark-days-13/
