From the 13th Hotel floor
I feel the wind blow
I pull my hoodie close
Like my modern day armor
To hide the scars
On soul not my
Arms or
My legs
The legs I used to carry
Me up those thirteen flights
Of stairs
Only to stare
Out the window of this forbidden,
Foreboding floor
But even now as i tell
My story, the wind chill doesn't bother
Me anymore
I walk around this lonely
Floor
Spiting, throwing, Slamming my selfish rhymes
And clenched hands against these locked doors
Just to be ignored
So I put on the hoodie just same way
as I do everyday
I'm on the Thirteenth floor
Because I've lost touch with the world
and the other Floors
YOU ARE READING
Paper Moon poetry
PoezjaLet these words be my confession And you be my priest offer me forgiveness in the form of a read
