A man who knows what he thinks, Drowned all his sorrow in his drinks. As he downs his last bottle, He lies awake alone in the grotto. There are emotions that are left unsaid, With a numbing chill that wants him dead. Love and yearning is what keeps him churning, Thoughts of family and never returning. They take time to eye him with doubt, Judging him silently and it's him it's about. Regardless of what or who, They keep saying things too. Keep it on the low they don't have to know, What you feel or what you owe. Shoulders up and let it go. Because in the end you matter, You have feelings of love I gather. I even read all that you said, Your work is from the heart it's not dead. Life hurts as we all can share, Feelings in words of poems with care. Pain, love, lust, hopelessness, sadness, yearning. It's all feelings I've seen or so I've been learning. @fuck_your_frelings (Since you asked me to write for you.. ask and I shall deliver)