Wrap the cord around your wrist to stall,
Lose yourself or lose it all,
Let go of the legend and fall.
Close the last chapter and pick up the next book,
Rebuild the spine and change the look,
It won't change the words you took.
Rip out the pages,
It won't change the ink that have stained them.
I guess this is why they say life is lived on stages,
It feels like a last performance.
YOU ARE READING
Undead Poetry.
PoetryLate night poems written by an insomniac, and published here. This'll be my poem collection, and will stay exclusively on Wattpad. I hope you enjoy these poems as much as I enjoy writing them.
