Don't talk to me, you aren't my type
Prince of teenage society
I never understood all the hype
Of the gang of fake friends called popularity

It would never work out
We are from two diffrent worlds
I'm free with myself I scream, I shout
You are the symbol of all that is savage and cruel

Girls cut to be with you
They starve to be with you
They fake to be with you
Ache, for a chance to hold you, love you

You couldn't understand me
No matter how hard you tried
I am finally not afraid to be myself, to be me
You are still looking for a mask to hide behind

Then you smile
With those gentle eyes of yours
I become like the others, I forget for a while
The consequences as my hand seeks yours

Touch me
Kiss me
Don't let me think
Hold me, Mold me
Take me to the brink

I'm yours

by Eden Sheffroth

Other poems of SHEFFROTH (15)

Comments (2)

Good poem.
This is a great poem Eden. I love the shift from disinterest, and really kind of disgust, to just pure admiration. A really great and original piece. Keep it up. Patrick O'Reilly