It's impossible to deny the voice.
This feeling, a sense of being that insists,
"I am alive."
I measure time in empty bottles,
Waiting for a purpose.
Dear God, it's me again.
The world is closing in on me.
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Stare from behind the glass.
The message in your empty eyes
Sees right through the reflection.
And this is who you are,
Who you know yourself to be.
I am your future.
Who turned out the lights?
YOU ARE READING
Scratches On My Gravestone
PoetryA collection of poems written by little ol' me, created to be discovered, but not remembered.
