this poem, like many of mine, is written in my darkess hours, hours of depression.


my heart

It is time to face the truth,
No one will ever love me,
No one ever could,
No one will ever hold my key.

My heart is black, cold and lonely,
As it will be at my death.
No sun can warm it,
It is better left.




Poetry by amy-leigh
Read 442 times
Written on 2006-07-28 at 02:29

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