I’m tired of pouring my life into paper
Of showing my soul, exposed and naked,
For the strangers’ entertainment.
But this is the only way for me to release
All the pressure from within
And keep going on one more day.
To expel from my story, at last,
the shade and sooth left behind
by unworthy vile wraiths.
If that’s the price I have to pay,
Being under a million eyes
Is but a small thing, I guess.
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...
