Russell Crow

Rookie - 303 Points (May 25th,1995)

A Hand Upon Her Cheek - Poem by Russell Crow

Before I collapse from overdosing on apathy
before I become empty from losing my lunch]
I'm afraid this will be the death of me
well not literally
I guess I'm just exaggerating
The same man telling this story
isn't the same one who was singing joyously before
All these thoughts of betrayal
all these questions thinking of bringing to light
never seen
never heard
never answered
I guess I'm waiting to be read
like an open book
but I'm a book of long division
I'm difficult to understand
My million goals, my heart of gold
I sent them on a paid vacation
What can I say, I like to mope alone
I'm just lost
I'm just sick
I'm just angry
with a weird feeling of the world hating me
and all it took was a Friday
Friday, I had no problems with it
I guess it had all kinds of problems with me
It still haunts me
It still kills me
It still angers me
It all started with a
with a hand upon her cheek...
and her hand decided to drift
drift from sight to a little lower
Do I know for sure
ask the question to empty air
and that's the answer I know...


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Poem Submitted: Friday, September 6, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, September 9, 2013


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