Damaged

Damaged

A Poem by Matt
"

an old poem i decided to post.

"
Do you know why i put holes in the wall?
Why do i doubt that you wouldn't let me fall?

Can you hear me screaming,
tearing the room all apart?

You made him feel like he wasn't good enough from the damned very start.

He'll always!!
Forever!!!
always played for second best.
But hell honey don't stop now,
I'll forgive all the rest.

Shaping him masochistically.
He smokes just to deal,
with all the stress.

When will your lies stop.
Will the Truth always hurt this bad.
I'm lying on the floor, but hell honey don't stop.
This heart couldn't go through anything less.

© 2010 Matt


Author's Note

Matt
an old poem i added allot too

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Reviews

Good stuff. I feel some angst, and I (unfortunately) can relate to the smoking part and the dealing with stress. Thanks for sharing.

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

wow this is really good .... i love it

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

see the smile that's put across my face? :) it takes a lot just to do that! 100% all the way!

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

WOW! Tough, i like it though! Very strong in the emotional side.

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I agree with the other reviews. I can sense the bitterness as well. great job, great poem. Keep up the great work

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Definatly a feeling of bitterness I agree. Sadness as well as feeling that your not telling us everything.
~Aradie

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This one gives off a real feeling of bitterness pretty well. Pretty good one.

Posted 14 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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97 Views
7 Reviews
Added on February 1, 2010
Last Updated on February 1, 2010

Author

Matt
Matt

Fort Worth, TX



About
my name is matthew. nuff said... oh and all this is old stuff.. way old stuff more..

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