Sometimes when I'm alone I cry because I’m on my own.
The tears I cry are bitter and warm.
They flow with life but take no form,
I cry because my heart is torn
and I find it difficult to carry on.
If I had an ear to confide in,
I would cry among my treasured friends
but who do you know that stops long
to help another carry on.
The world moves fast,
and it would rather pass you by
than to stop and see what makes you cry.
You know out of sight, out of mind.
It’s painful and sad sometimes I cry,
and no one cares why
See all poetry for William Ross #AX1393