His Everything
If one can't laugh at their own faults their is most certainly something wrong.
Keeping yourself from reaching the boiling point.
Oh how does one hold on to such virtues.
With wings he flies.
Painting a portrait of the skies.
Trying explain it all though his eyes.
And sometimes people still people don't understand he does not desire attention.
He is just trying ease his pain, his suffering, his everything.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Added by Poetry Lover
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