It Hurts
It Hurts
What is this feeling?
I feel so strange.
It hurts and eats me from inside,
My heart splits in two and stops beating for a minute.
I think that I can’t take this any longer.
My anger comes out and drains away the pain,
I feel mad but satisfied as well,
That is called the pain of loss I think.
I am not sure but I think it is.
Won’t anybody tell me if i am right?
Wait a second,
Don’t tell me,
I know it.
I’m going to die.
Farewell.
What is this feeling?
I feel so strange.
It hurts and eats me from inside,
My heart splits in two and stops beating for a minute.
I think that I can’t take this any longer.
My anger comes out and drains away the pain,
I feel mad but satisfied as well,
That is called the pain of loss I think.
I am not sure but I think it is.
Won’t anybody tell me if i am right?
Wait a second,
Don’t tell me,
I know it.
I’m going to die.
Farewell.
Reacties op dit gedicht
| me=confust: | Vrijdag, augustus 02, 2002 23:54 |
| :'( I like the way you wright, it comes straight from your heart! I understaind you... Ik zou jouw wel beter willen leren kennen. Ik heb jouw juist bijgevoegt bij mijn messenger. greetz Shirley |
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Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: Tristan | 
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| Gecontroleerd door: 260580 | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 01 augustus 2002 | ||
| Thema's: | ||