When I hear her name,
I have no pity,
Just pure hatred.
I know,
This must sound simply atrocious,
But it is the truth,
And I will not lie to you.
(Lets get back to the poem.)
When,
I see her face on photos,
A fire burns,
Inside me,
That cannot be tamed.
When,
People speak of the,
Disgusting things she did,
I feel enfuriated.
Whenever,
Something reminds me of her,
I feel sorry,
For those whom,
She has caused pain.
Because,
I know she has caused pain.
Pain,
That can never be erased from anyone's memory.
Pain,
That will leave a mark,
Forever.
I know she,
Has a problem.
Because,
No human being,
Could ever be that cruel.
None.
There hearts,
Are broken.
Scattered.
If I knew something,
That could mend them.....
They were only children,
Waiting for her to love them,
But sadly she never did.
4 Comments.:
hmmm who is the mysterious person you are writting about?
Yes, who is this mysterious person u are writing about? I also like the writing in it.
Your writing about a mysterious women?
I thought she was symbolic...a symbol all too bad
wow, this is a mystery.
whos the person?
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