The countless faces
I have fall upon, mean nothing.
The distinguished aromas,
To me, smell the same.
The Loveless actors,
All act as one.
All the colors,
Turn out the same.
All the books,
have the same happy ending.
Theres no love.
Theres too much greed.
Im tired.
brianda lee
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/im-tired-4/
