I've been beatin by so many things including sickness and hate.
In my eyes shows my soul, and all the emotions it holds.
The pain and agony from the thrusts from my parents.
The weariness from the disease I constantly fight.
The love I've learned in the past month.
Never thought I'd be loved, but then I met you.
Yet if you held me, you'd know my boyd was as fragile as glass.
I ask always, to know how long you think we'll last.
Wil you run out on me after six months or two weeks like everyone else.
If I let you touch me, you'd see the bruises running down my back.
If I let you make love ot me, you'd see the scars of hate, and my ugliness.
I am nothing, because all I have is a pretty face, the rest is dis-colored.
If you touched me, could you handle the pain in my heart.
The pain he gave me, when he forced his "love".
I'm afraid I am nothing, nothing but a pour soul.
For in my eyes, you'd see I am dying.

i liked this, damn, nice emotion, well presented, much respect, props for feeling, peace


signed,
~madd