Half past eight in the eve
He's calling late, knowing I dislike the phone
Lacking consideration, he calls it a foible and insistant, he exists it seems To install cracks in my boundaries
Chip away until I wonder, am I being over the top?
I am not
The crack will spread, across all that I am
Until i shatter
And lay
Wondering how it happened
Sure I was in some way, to blame
-
Author:
MessyHead (
Offline) - Published: December 8th, 2023 03:14
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.