lonely
Look into my eyes.
And tell me,
What do you see?
Do you see the tears,
That poor trough my eyes.
Do you see the pain,
The dreadfull sighs?
I’m alone,
And I’ll always be,
Because I’m not there,
for him to see.
End my live,
Do it quick.
I suffered enough,
It makes me sick.
Never alive,
But I ain’t dead.
Never thrive,
Ain’t that sad?
Still,
My blood is red,
My flesh is pink.
Call that dead?
There’s the brink.
Wave me goodbye...
And tell me,
What do you see?
Do you see the tears,
That poor trough my eyes.
Do you see the pain,
The dreadfull sighs?
I’m alone,
And I’ll always be,
Because I’m not there,
for him to see.
End my live,
Do it quick.
I suffered enough,
It makes me sick.
Never alive,
But I ain’t dead.
Never thrive,
Ain’t that sad?
Still,
My blood is red,
My flesh is pink.
Call that dead?
There’s the brink.
Wave me goodbye...
Reacties op dit gedicht
| MikadO: | Maandag, oktober 09, 2006 16:05 |
| heel mooi geschreven maar ik ben het wel met roland hainje eens;) heel zonde dat dta bedacht is;) XXX |
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| Roland Hainje: | Maandag, oktober 09, 2006 15:45 |
| mooi geschreven;) vergeet, The dreadfull sighs? niets is zonde, zonde is een woord wat niet moet bestaan. Zonde, dat zonde bedacht is!;) groetjes. Ro |
|
Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: steefveld | 
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| Gecontroleerd door: michris | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 09 oktober 2006 | ||
| Thema's: | ||