Poem -
They
They hurt me, they hurt me real bad.
They curse me, they curse me from their heart.
They say they love me, yet they dont care.
They love me, yet they fail to understand.
They say i will burn in hell, yet they pray for me.
They dont care, yet they look after me.
What is this contradiction?
Is this what they call love?
If this is how love makes me feel,
I pray to God i never find love.
They cant seem to get enough of hurting me,
They cant seem to get enough of hitting me,
As my memories pass by,
I remember the scars and bruises
More than the love they faked.
If this is what love does to one,
If love is coloured in blood and tears,
I pray to God, i never find love again.
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Comments
I'm with you 100% on this one, Anjali.
Poets and writers in general are notoriously overtly emotional individuals.
Just as someone who is blind has their other senses heightened, as poets, we feel things far more deeply than most others.
That's why we writeānot always because we want to but because we feel we must.
Nicely penned.
I hope you do find someone who loves you and respects you for who you are one day.
Hang in there.
~Dean Kuch
Thank you Dean! Really appreciate your kind words and support. Needed it.
Tysm :)
My pleasure.
~Dean ć
Dear Poet Anjali Maria,
Your poem is simple, highly emotional, Congratulations
Stay blessedĀ
Williamsji MaveliĀ
Ā