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Sydne Morris

Hurting my mind

You would think we are just friends
but your hands keep touching mine
when will this confusion stop
while we still smile those fake expressions
you know how I feel
brushing you hair with my fingertips
Is their another one
who steals you from me
nothing can heal the scar
that has just opened
maybe one day you will hold me
and love me like you should
but untill then
every single thought
of your hair, skin, smell
and dark brown eyes
is hurting my mind

Dedicated to Nathan Davison

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A Dying Race

My friend Kessa’ and I
Always loved writing
Poetry was our favorite
Everyday on the old yellow school bus
Number 6 or 149
She and I would read to each other
What we had come up with
The night before

I was always a little
Green with envy
Because her writing seemed much
More mature than mine

But one day we realized
That poetry was dying
Even though so many people
Write it all over the world
Poetry has lost it’s fame

[...] Read more

poem by Sydne MorrisReport problemRelated quotes
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