Dirt can not be hurt
But is it true if I am hurt?
If I am simply dirt
Why is it that I torcher myself?
Day after day
Not physically but in
The utmost mental ways
Why do I think like this?
One of many days
I just wish I knew the right words
to write, to say
I am simply a thorn to the rose
the part of this whole
A part that is rarely seen
A part that’s rarely shown
To hear the thoughts
And enter to what’s most
rather unknown
I just wish
That this part was to me unknown
Y’all are killin’ me, with the sadness.
Another great write, my friend.
Nice job! 👍👍
Thank you! And sorry just putting up some old poems i found in my old notebook of mine.