I could see the storm brewing, clouds of grey and black.
You've been smoking to your death.
The way you go on and on and pretend that nothing's wrong.
Trudged through the flames,
blisters and burns echoing off of your mind.
I've walked through there many times before.
Lay, staring at the ceiling, silence has never felt so empty
The class went by slower today, the clock must have been broken.
I couldn't look at the empty chair next to me.
The way you go on and on and pretend that nothing's wrong.
I've walked through there many times before.
I couldn't look at your empty chair next to me.
-
Author:
M.B (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 18th, 2020 23:04
- Comment from author about the poem: Not sure how I feel about this poem. I had a hard day and couldn't focus very well on writing. Please let me know what you think though and thank you for reading.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 16
- User favorite of this poem: A Boy With Roses.
Offline)
Comments2
Hey V. Another good poem. I love your writing style!
That chair will be filled tomorrow.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.