There is pain in my heart for another.
I cannot comfort her,
I cannot be with her,
I want to share her pain,
ease her suffering,
show her I care.
Why must it be so hard?
Why should it happen to start with?
The unanswerable questions
ring out to the stars,
and only silence replies
with it's smooth sound.
I scream with anguish,
and the pain of helplessness.
"There must be something I can do, mustn’t there?"
The whimpered query
hangs in the air,
"please?".
But only silence and time remain,
one a comforter,
the other, a healer.
So why am I not comforted,
or healed of my pain,
and only misery remains?
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Poetry, etc.
Some of the poetry in this journal is mine, some is my cousin's. If it is my work, i marked it with a *JJ* otherwise its my cousin's.
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xXxhot_coco_kittyxXx Community Member 
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Webpage Title
taste the bitterness of another bloody valentines day