the silent drift amongst themselves
but the proud tell tales of faked acts
giving reasons to love them
because that's all they truly want
some swindlers tell you of their misfortune
of their misguided investments
prying for pity on levels of human nature
but you, you
i don't know what you do
the cries telltale of a poor sinner
while continuing a leading life
and your thoughts forwardly engaged
but again
you still just seek the reason to be loved, wanted
because otherwise, no one would keep you around
would they, dear old friend?
as i write this, i can clearly feel your description
disintegrating into the waters
not yet can i recall nothing, but soon i will
and for that day shall come soon, i revel
happily continuing to mix the sand till then
YOU ARE READING
I'll Be Fine (pt. 2 of 2)
Poetrypoetry showing my stress. relieving, coping, really. continuing to add poems, sometimes daily. use this as place to talk about your own frustrations and dances with pain and strife
