Mind is tangled up in a ball of yarn.
Can’t find the ends ,
that lead to the middle.
Constantly tying to untangled,
your complicated thoughts,
and make sense of the solutions.
Warm drops roll down your skin,
as the give you chills throughout.
Can no longer create thoughts,
for they just turn into an illusion.
-
Author:
Brooke Snyder (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 10th, 2017 00:49
- Comment from author about the poem: Sometimes you just can’t make sense of things, and you try so hard to find the right solution, but it never works out the way you planned.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 25
Offline)
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