Hiya, peoples. Another poem. It's about what happens when people act like
something that they're not. It turned out completely different than what I
had planned, but hey, I guess I like it. Tell me what you think, but please
no flames. I have a tendency to.... not care when flamed. Thanks. ^.^
Disclaimer: It's mine! All mine! MWAHAHAHA!!!!!!! *coughs, gags, chokes,
and passes out*
Who is She
She peels back the blankets to climb into his bed.
She strips herself of everything as sweat beads off her head.
His sinful moans of pleasure invigorate her lust.
He's not the only one for whom she's sacrificed so much.
You know her as a whore who lures you into bed
To fulfill your fantasies, sick and twisted in your head.
She's striped of all her pride when she's striped of all her clothes.
She numbs herself of feeling so to you the pain won't show.
But who is she when no one's there?
What is it she feels?
Abandoning the things she loves
To make her life seem real.
She's always there at church (early service) twice a week.
It seems that her relationship with God is very deep.
She quit the drugs and cussing a year ago last May.
With not so much as looking back, completely changed her ways.
You know her as a saint who reads her Bible every night.
Only very rarely do you ever see her cry.
Expected to be perfect, she hid her meager flaws.
But couldn't keep perfection of a saint for very long.
But who is she when no one's there?
What is it she feels?
Abandoning the things she loves
To make her life seem real.
You often find her laughing and playing goofy pranks.
There's not a drop of blood of sadness running through her veins.
Joyful and flamboyant she's well-liked by all her friends.
She puts a smile upon her face when her day begins.
You know her as a child, though she's almost twenty-four.
People always told her to grow up a little more.
No one ever realized how much that hurt inside
That every time they told her this, was one more night she cried.
But who is she when no one's there?
What is it she feels?
Abandoning the things she loves
To make her life seem real.
She sits by her computer, only work is on her brain.
She drank two pots of coffee so to keep herself awake.
The sun is shining warmly with a pure and quiet breeze,
But she's locked inside her office with no knowledge of the scene.
You know her as a worker (with the briefcase and the tie).
She takes off work at six P.M., her mornings start at five.
Her son, who loves to play his sports, won three soccer games.
She couldn't come to them because she works on Saturdays.
But who is she when no one's there?
What is it she feels?
Abandoning the things she loves
To make her life seem real.
The whore became a mother and stopped sleeping with the thugs.
The saint became a satinist and overdosed on drugs.
The child grew up to never laugh and hate who she'd become.
The worker took off early to play soccer with her son.
Did you know just who they were and what it was they felt?
Did you think that they'd get through the different things life delt?
You shouldn't feel you have to hide from anything in life.
Or change into somebody else that you yourself don't like.
So who are you when no one's there?
What is it you feel?
Do you abandon things you love,
To make your life seem real?
something that they're not. It turned out completely different than what I
had planned, but hey, I guess I like it. Tell me what you think, but please
no flames. I have a tendency to.... not care when flamed. Thanks. ^.^
Disclaimer: It's mine! All mine! MWAHAHAHA!!!!!!! *coughs, gags, chokes,
and passes out*
Who is She
She peels back the blankets to climb into his bed.
She strips herself of everything as sweat beads off her head.
His sinful moans of pleasure invigorate her lust.
He's not the only one for whom she's sacrificed so much.
You know her as a whore who lures you into bed
To fulfill your fantasies, sick and twisted in your head.
She's striped of all her pride when she's striped of all her clothes.
She numbs herself of feeling so to you the pain won't show.
But who is she when no one's there?
What is it she feels?
Abandoning the things she loves
To make her life seem real.
She's always there at church (early service) twice a week.
It seems that her relationship with God is very deep.
She quit the drugs and cussing a year ago last May.
With not so much as looking back, completely changed her ways.
You know her as a saint who reads her Bible every night.
Only very rarely do you ever see her cry.
Expected to be perfect, she hid her meager flaws.
But couldn't keep perfection of a saint for very long.
But who is she when no one's there?
What is it she feels?
Abandoning the things she loves
To make her life seem real.
You often find her laughing and playing goofy pranks.
There's not a drop of blood of sadness running through her veins.
Joyful and flamboyant she's well-liked by all her friends.
She puts a smile upon her face when her day begins.
You know her as a child, though she's almost twenty-four.
People always told her to grow up a little more.
No one ever realized how much that hurt inside
That every time they told her this, was one more night she cried.
But who is she when no one's there?
What is it she feels?
Abandoning the things she loves
To make her life seem real.
She sits by her computer, only work is on her brain.
She drank two pots of coffee so to keep herself awake.
The sun is shining warmly with a pure and quiet breeze,
But she's locked inside her office with no knowledge of the scene.
You know her as a worker (with the briefcase and the tie).
She takes off work at six P.M., her mornings start at five.
Her son, who loves to play his sports, won three soccer games.
She couldn't come to them because she works on Saturdays.
But who is she when no one's there?
What is it she feels?
Abandoning the things she loves
To make her life seem real.
The whore became a mother and stopped sleeping with the thugs.
The saint became a satinist and overdosed on drugs.
The child grew up to never laugh and hate who she'd become.
The worker took off early to play soccer with her son.
Did you know just who they were and what it was they felt?
Did you think that they'd get through the different things life delt?
You shouldn't feel you have to hide from anything in life.
Or change into somebody else that you yourself don't like.
So who are you when no one's there?
What is it you feel?
Do you abandon things you love,
To make your life seem real?