There's a leak in the faucet
and it won't leave me alone.
It's whispering noise,
all throughout my home.
This palace is crumbling
and im amongst the rubble.
Left to fend myself,
in deep unseen trouble.
Walls of ruin, ten feet tall.
If i were to risk the climb,
i should surely fall.
Down, the ruined walls.
YOU ARE READING
Withered Words
PoetryMy words are withered because they suck. A collection of some of my poems. If they're poems at all. (:
