Inside these halls
the walls are bare
the paint has long
dried and faded
with no sign of it
being fixedInside these calls
the times are harsh
the wood has chipped
and splintered with
no hope of it
being replacedInside my mind
the corners has rounded
and the crumbs has
laid down trying to
arrange an image
of what is supposed
to be my futureInside these halls
I watched time weather
all my memories as
the paint dries and fade
in the house I grew up inInside these calls
I stared at the frames
hung on the mantle
of what used to be our home
as the wood has chipped
and splintered taking with it
the glow of youthInside my mind
I watched my words
twist into grotesque features
reminiscent of death and rot
as I tackle rounded
corners and pick up
the crumbs of what
can be my future
but isn't through
time and circumstanceInside my house
inside my soul
inside myself
I watched time go by
until it stops and
it's time to go home
YOU ARE READING
an adjournment of scars, an endearment of stitches
Poesía❝𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘧𝘢𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘢�...