Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Beat Down

Being kicked in the stomach
Hurts beautifully compared to being
Loved second, or worse,
Not lover at all.
I am garbage,
A person of refuse
With leftover features and a rotting
Personality and there is no
Doubt about it;
I'm not special.
I'm not his special.
Or her special,
Or their special,
And I travel lonely and lost, looking
For warm arms
That want me but
Those don't exist so
Back in the
Trash can I go.


Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Beat Down

316,377 Poems Read