I Love This Poem..but Makes Me Cry

I Love Poem But Cry - Culture, Family, Travel, Consumer Reviews - Posted: 8th Jan, 2004 - 1:57pm

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Posts: 3 - Views: 1065
Post Date: 18th Dec, 2003 - 6:47am / Post ID: #

I Love This Poem..but Makes Me Cry
A Friend

I Love This Poem..but Makes Me Cry

A girl sat in the dark
in a corner of a street
holding her left arm close
as she began to weep

Masgara ran down her face
just like the blood from her arm
her heart beat at a fast pace
just like a horse running on a farm

Thinking of what a mistake she was
wondering why she was born
dreaming of the day she would rest in peace
crying as her wrist tore more

Blood falling from her arm
started forming a puttle on the ground
and she stood up, to think
as the knife dropped to the ground

still holding her left arm tightly
she lifted her head
and she began to pray.
the she fell to the ground and then she was dead

Her left arm fell from her freely
then rain started to pour
the girl lyed there stif
on the concrete floor

her own blood surounded her
on this cold dark night
by her self, alone
like her life, that was just not right

see this girl was a friend
from some time before
and this is how it had to end
I wish I could of done something more

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Post Date: 28th Dec, 2003 - 4:34am / Post ID: #

I Love This Poem..but Makes Me Cry
A Friend

Cry Me Poembut Love I

My sis that was really good, I had a friend that committed sucide too. I wish I would of told her how I felt about her but i didnt, however she didnt cut herself.. she hung herself. But whatever I really liked the poem its something thats reality.

Your lovely sis

Post Date: 8th Jan, 2004 - 1:57pm / Post ID: #

I Love This Poem..but Makes Me Cry
A Friend

I Love This Poem..but Makes Me Cry Reviews Consumer & Travel Family Culture

Here is another one.. this one is shorter

To My Grandma

A closet full of bubbles
That's what I remember
And coloring books
And paper crowns from Long John Silver's
I remember McDonold's playgrounds
Her laugh, her smile, her presence
The seven dwarfs on my fourth birthday
A red scrapbook made with her two hands
I remember the day I was told I'd never get to see her again
And the tears falling from my dad's eyes
And I remember she loved me

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