domingo, 5 de julho de 2009

Poem




My Blood And Tears, Are Words And Sentences
by Marc Robinson

My heart bleeds out ink,
Which my hand smears onto paper.
Drip by drip comes
Word by word.
Every poem is trying to heal the wound
That makes my heart bleed.
My tears form as words.
These dry cheeks
Still haven't felt that salty tear drop
And still I can feel that tear build up behind my eyes.
So my hand works extra hard
To try and cover this page,
With words I turn into poems.

My Blood and Tears
Are Words and Sentences
Which I give out to all to share
And to feel that little bit less alone
In this world

3 comentários:

Lara Neves disse...

"So my hand works extra hard"

It's necessary... the life is not easy. Everybody says that, but it's true. (My english is terrible!)

Lucas Rigonato disse...

no, it isn't terrible.

josivane disse...

oooooo GOD is biautfull
oié