Messed Up
Messed Up
I'm so fucking messed up,
messed up with myself.
People try to talk with me,
but I don't need there help.
I've always been strong,
I've always were my mask.
But I do feel like shit,
but I don't want to tell it, when people ask.
So many things, inside my mind,
why can't I just leave the shitty parts behind?
I'm so fucking messed up,
messed up with myself.
People try to talk with me,
but I don't need there help.
I've always been strong,
I've always were my mask.
But I do feel like shit,
but I don't want to tell it, when people ask.
So many things, inside my mind,
why can't I just leave the shitty parts behind?
Reacties op dit gedicht
| Werner Domroese: | Vrijdag, februari 27, 2009 23:22 |
| A poker face doesn''t always win. Deal the cards and play again. | |
| SWQ: | Donderdag, februari 26, 2009 20:02 |
| Hmm.. Maskers, ze lijken je een sterk persoon te maken. Mijn mening is echter dat het doorleven en meemaken van je emoties ook veel kracht vereist. Denk er maar over na :) | |
| arie: | Donderdag, februari 26, 2009 13:34 |
| blijven "zwelgen" in dit gevoel is zeker geen oplossing... sterkte, arie |
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Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: DarkLadyB | 
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| Gecontroleerd door: christina | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 26 februari 2009 | ||
| Thema's: | ||