Each passing day
I need less and less.
Less pain,
Less books,
Less space,
Less phonies and fake friends
I don't even need a house or bed,
Just a simple place to stay
For my head to rest
And my spirit to refresh.
So, I can at last shed
This twisted need to hoard
Too many things in my heart,
Including the wounds and scars.
YOU ARE READING
Shortys2024 Challenge
PoetryA collection of poems for the Shortys Challenge 2024. Starting September 1st , I'll be posting a short poem a day and submitting it to the challenge. Join me in this personal quest, and let's find out if I can complete the goal of writing 30 poems i...
