Sometimes When I hear about her wrinkled Scars,
It causes my heart ache,
But the best thing I learnt from her,
Is to live on my own,
To being enough on my own.
When I look at her,
I often feel, she's one of people,
Belonging to these doors of dorm,
Who spend their life in their head wholesome.
Tired by society, lost from life, loosen hope, sunken head, hollow heart,
As if there's no room for living had left,
Even though every room in their is still vacant,
Just like the mind that has become cursing saint.
YOU ARE READING
The Mad People's Dorm
Poetry"Mad People's Dorm" is a heartfelt collection of poetry that takes you deep into the emotions and thoughts of someone battling anxiety, betrayal, and inner turmoil. Each poem is a window into a mind that has faced darkness and is striving to find li...
