It doesn't matter how loud I scream.
I don't want you to hear the echos.
Every hand reached out to me,
Gets cut off.
I wish I could live.
I'm too busy wishing to die.
This design bars me. Bars us.
This sabotage is my life.
Glimpse at my feeble, fetal self.
Throw me your eyes as I station them around me.
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Author:
Noah (
Offline) - Published: August 22nd, 2017 05:53
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
Offline)
Comments1
I hope you feel better soon. sadness just rips through the whole poem in a beautiful way.
Thank you
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