Cut and Helpless
I see the cuts you make every time I see your arms.
You tell me it's the last cut, the very last scar.
But ever time I see your arms, there is another one.
You've never touched a cigar, never touched a joint.
Some how you've found my weak piont, the thing thatI can't change.
I'm helpless when you tell you're lie; I pray that this time it's the truth.
Then when I see the lie unfold, I say next time I'm gonna tell.
But I know you see right through my bluff; we both know I'm not that tough.
I just wish i had the guts to do the very thing a good friend must.
But I don't; with every cut I'm helpless.
You tell me it's the last cut, the very last scar.
But ever time I see your arms, there is another one.
You've never touched a cigar, never touched a joint.
Some how you've found my weak piont, the thing thatI can't change.
I'm helpless when you tell you're lie; I pray that this time it's the truth.
Then when I see the lie unfold, I say next time I'm gonna tell.
But I know you see right through my bluff; we both know I'm not that tough.
I just wish i had the guts to do the very thing a good friend must.
But I don't; with every cut I'm helpless.
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.