Poetry
B
City Of Angels They call this the city of Angels But I call it the City of hopelesness, grief and despair There are hundreds of victums With no one to love them or even to care To live is meaningless, but to die would be giving up hope of ever finding happiness Each pour tortured soul has a seperate story to tell That would bring you to tears when you hear of this Hell They call this the city of Angels But I call it the city of Darkness, Fate and Consiquence Each second is a eternity of Lonlyness The days are endless and the nights are forever Each face is a painted potrait of someone's life You can tell the future by looking in a crystal ball But you can see the past when you look in someones eyes Their life was a game of survivle, without any prize. They call this the city of Angels But I call it the city of distruction, heartake and Pain No one Knows anyone And No one want's to be known Everyone for themself Everyone holds their own They call this the City of Angels But whoever 'They' were obviously got it wrong
