I inflate like a balloon
Keeping up a façade
Then when I deflate
All is left when I am sad
I just want a needle to prick
The viens and let out the air
Because honestly I don't think
that people want me there
I just want all of this to end
For all that is true
What is the point of my meaningless life
If I have no one to speak to?
I end up alone,
an outcast
In my own world
And in your land
My life is a fabricated lie
Upon which my tears lay
Even though I may cry
There's nothing I can do about it,
Not today.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
PoetryPoems I made for practice. Mostly self deprivation. Poems based on my own stories and thoughts will placed here as well. Suggested for those who don't mind the apathetic.
