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Posted
I wrote this for a magazine!:

The pain.



He sat there on that day,
Cring in the rain,
Thinking what she said,
Thinking what to say.

The pain flows though him,
Though his heart and soul,
Although it wasn't her,
She left with a sin.

He wishes she is here,
To speak for one last time,
His life is now dark,
Never to be clear.

The pain he feels now,
Is stronger then God,
Weaker then tread,
Something strange but how?

She left him,
on that day.
Guest dayday
Posted
I knew what it meant unlike some people. It was real good. Keep it up. Hope you post a couple more.

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