TYLEN BURROW
My Poems
Through the Eyes of a Tortured Soul
The grass is green,
I look into you,
And I see me.
A troubled past,
Of sadness and crying,
Why should we last?
We all end up dying.
Where was I going?
I left it all behind,
But I entered knowing,
A finished, purified mind.
I walked in the room,
It was quiet and calm,
I couldn't see any gloom,
Could I have been wrong?
I envisioned the screaming,
The sorrow and the fright,
Was I really dreaming?
Am I sleeping in the night?
I sit down,
Ever so quiet and shy,
Am I able to drown?
Or am I desert-like dry?
I sit and wait,
Like a sitting duck,
I'm processing the hate,
Wondering if I'll be stick.
I don't think I will,
I'm wondering, why?
As I'm sitting still,
I hear a whisper inside.
It said.
It's ok Tylen,
You're going to be alright,
You don't need to fight,
You will sleep tonight.
Tylen, don't cry,
This is not goodbye,
You're going to get better,
Because surely I know,
It doesn't have to be,
Through the Eyes of a Tortured Soul
My girl
Я люблю тебя
Моя девушка