the poetry of Charles Fry

26 April 1994

words

they step on my toes
and they pull my hair
bringing tears to my lonely eyes

i try to be strong
and to stand by myself
pretending i never cry

but the bricks that they spit
build up in my heart
tearing through to the other side

i'm falling i'm breaking
i beg to be spared
do they see what they do to my life

Copyright © 1994 Charles Fry