and the tv only plays static. the mirrors are shattered with no use of repair. the door hinges are broken down into crusty rust. the swings outside only creak of injustice. i swear, the walls are coming down as the weak floor boards painfully squeak.
it's very vain of the tv to only play static. but the sound it makes, keeps me from hearing the creaking swings and squeaking floors of the state of mind i live in.
// m.m.
YOU ARE READING
Dactylic
PoetryPoetic Rant Book Series - #1 A collection of poetic like sentences and, or small poems. Plus, a few poetically put rants. (lower case intended) 8/9/15 - #46 in Poetry
