What's the Point?
Somebody please tell me...
What’s the point,
Of me loving you,
You loving her?
What’s the point,
Of loving you if you’re not free,
To be with me?
What’s the Point,
Of dreaming,
If we will never be?
What’s the point,
Of writing a poem,
That sounds like the same old song?
What’s the Point,
Opening my heart,
To watch it get torn apart?
What’s the point,
Of believing in love,
If you are never gonna get some?
What’s the point,
Of bearing wait I can’t take?
What’s the point,
Of life with so much strive?
What’s the point,
Of carrying this emotional knife?
About the Creator
Yvonne Knight
I'm trying to find a place for my writing.
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TICK TOCK
11.59. Even though the glass had shattered, Lorna could still see that her watch ticked over. One minute until midnight. Her watch was the only thing she had that she could carry. The only thing to remember her parents by. A birthday present from last year, the year she turned seventeen.
By Elizabeth Butler4 days ago in Fiction
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