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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Other · #1097523
a poem about the cold of betrayal.
Who was I to think you were special,
When you only wanted control?
Who was I to think you were worth it,
When it wasn't me you want to hold
onto.

Now you're left with all your mistakes
And the dreams you tried to deny.
Now you've left me with all of your mess--
It was me that you made cry...
again.

Don't tell me you're just a stranger;
A faceless lie to go with the mold.
Don't tell me I wasn't there for you,
When it was me who stood by you in the cold...
alone.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1097523-ThE-GaMe