I'm scared of the future,
Just the thought of growing up,
Endless sea of disappointment,
instead of the enjoyment.
Heartbreak and unhappiness knocking on the empty,lonely,cold apartment door.
And death waiting in the end of room, watching and observing, pretty lies of ours. Taking people to their grave,
Welcoming in to the emptiness, room of empty souls, filling up with hope,
"This is no the end"
Reassuring self-talk.
YOU ARE READING
The lost art of Words.
Poesía"But none of these options were in my story, A story which dried up my heart from hope" What does it take to live with a vision full of words. what is it like to be knotted up in your own dreams? POETRY ALERT!!
