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What It's Called
by April L. Ferriol

Alone, I lie here 
In the cold night air
I scream for you, but you cannot hear
Do you know of my endless tears?

Tossing and turning
My heart is still yearning
Why do you tease me
Constantly deceiving me?

Endlessly, I play the fool
Wondering why you're so cruel
Will you ever know 
What you're letting go?

I'll put up these walls
They will stand tall
I'll make sure they never fall
A broken heart is what it's called.
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Poem ID: 82203   Poem Posted: 3/15/2016
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Copyright , 2005, April L. Ferriol  all rights reserved by the author.
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