the pages were all they had
the wonderlands they made, good and bad
no one felt the kind of madness
they felt in his bubbling mind.
but the art, the words,
they left them.
and soon after, they stole a soft elegy
since the death of their imagination
would be the death of them too.
YOU ARE READING
too young to be this sad | poetry
Poetrythe thousands of colours, dreams, and thoughts running to me at 2am, condensed into a little garden of poems and prose. ・・・・・ ✁ - - from the author : this is my first piece of work on wattpad omg i'm scared i hope you all enjoy 🥺🖤
