The smokes of uneven thoughts in my mind prevail.
The running hope was I lose to chase on the throughfare cinders.
I have weakened on the roughness,
I couldn't handle it.
I am wounded with the throbbing pain, trailed in losing,
degrading oneself to the worthlessness of living fear.
Downheartedness eyed me to see first a blurry labefactions.
Every edge and corner completes the blood of my hope.
My garden represents the beauty of colorlessness.
A glassless window, a door closed,
everyone can knock but, no one can open because I am locked.
Everything is blocked.
Home of despair, please pair me with justice and fairness.
-spicybcyi
YOU ARE READING
Secluded to the Messages
RandomA collection of poetry and prose. Secluded to the messages is where it puts one in a place meant to meet and where one gets messaged in its vague manner like the fast paced frequency of a tiny place and a crowd's annoying noise. Date finished: April...
