a work that's supposed to
be my freedom
became so tiring
i felt like i was imprisoned
a world of art
became so messy
a burst of colors
but monochrome was all i could see
a world of poetry
an array of words
i could no longer find the right words to say
writing started to hurt
a passion i once loved
became too heavy to do
what once was my freedom
became chains that drowned me in blues
(is taking a break really the right thing to do?)
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a/n:
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letters after dark | poetry book 3
Poetry[ poetry and prose book 3 ] a collection of poems and proses of thoughts that fill up the void after dark. #7 in poetry #1 in proses #56 in poem #5 poetrycollection started: june 2023 ended: ----- status: on-going
