The walls screamed and jeered at the man as he stumbled through the blinding lights, his head pounding and the clothes, like claws, shredding his skin, pulling him downward. The voices around him bombarding his mind and the bugs squirming underneath his skin as he inched forward. The crowd jeered and lurched towards him as he wished only to hide, but every bump and scrape, every little sensation was the equivalent to having your head chiped off piece by piece.
His hand reached up to catch his own forehead as his skin itched for a way out.
The walls stretched and distorted feeling both large and small. The lights above, simply glaring at the only sober man they has seen in quite some time. He staged and swayed, unsteady on his feet, the ground underneath him seaming to shift. The streets emptied out but the echoes continued to prod at his mind as the man could only continue to walk with hope that one day, he may be relieved of his bitter fate.
YOU ARE READING
my middle school poetry collection
Poetryif you need to read some not so relaxing poetry or something for inspiration or an school task feel free to read or use any of these free form poems or not. I am not expecting anyone to read this tbh. (updates will be irregular)
