Pay attention to the secrets of life in this one. there are 3
Hiding lies between the blue lines
a mixture of regret and art
caught in between pain and comfort
Confusing my words with these two
Calling it "My own poetic suicide"
So I cut my wrist...
I'm bleeding ink,
as words seep from my head out of
my vains onto this tattered paper
I call it my master piece
I call it bleeding ink.
We all call it our own little
Poetic Suicide
© 2007 Instant_Insanity
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/4918/92826 on Monday December 01st, 2008 09:48 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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