Illness

by

Thomas Leatherbarrow

I know some people who are "ill"
But I do not know just how they feel
It cuts me deep it cuts them too
Buts you see I know that’s you

Its you who makes those painful scars
Its you who makes them what they are
True enough it’s the way you deal
But aren’t there other ways to feel ?

I am here only a call away
But I know you’ll never ring to say
Come and stand by my side
Together we’ll find were it resides

Why you wont I do not know
Its like you are afraid to show
you’ve told me stuff I’ve told you too
And now I know not what to do

You’ve made up your mind and I’m too late
I’ve become that person that you hate
This is what you’ve come to believe
But don’t you see its to relieve

Any pain that I may bring to you
So now you say what you must do
Is to shut me out and not look back.

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Softest of Tongues
by: Alan Morgan
from: Mas Canet, France

To visit all of Thomas Leatherbarrow's poems, click HERE

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