Tell me your troubles, tell me your sorrows.
Your feelings are like boulders
upon my weak, aching shoulders.
Tell me your problems, tell me your pain.
To keep your sanity,
you make me insane.
Tell me your anger, tell me your hate.
Here I sit, I listen, I care.
But are you sure this is really fair?
I worry, I weep, I scream, and shout.
Only for the message to go through one ear and out.
I love and I help so many other, I do.
So how can I care for myself too?
And so, I cannot.
For my will is now shot.
So take all your boulders,
and place the world on my shoulders.
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Poems.....
Poems i wrote. They are dark, unexpected, and the real me. Can you handle it? Thou Shall Read Poems If Thou Dares To.
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