The world is not our friend or our home
There's only so much we can take as humans
All these feelings
Our entire lives are filled with misery and fear of the unknown
Is that really a way to live?
In constant fear?
Not knowing what'll happen next
Not knowing what our future has in store
Many crack under the pressure and that happy little surface they have shatters
And breaks
And breaks
Until there's nothing left
But the fragments of our souls
YOU ARE READING
Strikes.
PoetryPoetry of abuse, pain and suffering. With every strike there is light at the end of the tunnel.
