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I'm Sick
i'm sick if writing about love
i'm sick of writing sorrow
i'm sick of writing anything
but that anythings all i know
i dont know of happy times
when our family was alive
when mom and dad weren't fighting
and sissy and i were alike
i dont know of little picknicks
where we lie down in the grass
smile and pass notes
in the back of class
i remember crying
when you told me this was good-bye
grabbing your hand
asking you not to go
i remember bleeding
after the sharp thing hit my arm
after you said you loved me
and that you would bring no harm
poem
by
Jade Just me
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