Open is my masters vessel,
pain has stole the door.
So many seems has welcomed self,
to steal all worth plus more.
Dizzy is his thoughts and mind,
his sight is blurred by tears.
Untrusting everything he sees,
by lies he lives in fear.
Love is all he really wants,
he gets just taunts and dancing.
Shriveled up and crippling,
prudishness romancing.
He does not rest,
he does not sleep,
he does not nothing more.
And everyday it just gets worse,
nothing for the better.
And no one true would even read,
if his tears wrote a letter...
saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight )
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/if-my-tears-wrote-a-letter/
