The thoughts.
That consume my very heart.
Another sappy moment alone
Wishing it was you at the door.
I walk around this empty apartment searching for things
Knowing I'll just find the loneliness that crept up
Underneath the support beams.
But maybe its just boredam
I am very frightful of myself when I get lonesome.
I'll just turn on the T.V.
Waste away the days with paid programs
Knowing it'll only hide the feeling that I am
Sad.
Yeah.
That's bad.
So let me go outside
And see the snow
That comes once a year
To this very door
And realize.
Even if you are gone from this world...
I'll still write about you
Immortality.
That's what I am able to bring to your personality.
Then again.
Depression sounds different then what was said before
To the door.
That's when you crept up
Like before.
Telling me my mission was to write about the snow
And what we dream of on those days.
YOU ARE READING
The diary of a fiend
Poetry100+ poems that depict the intentions, dreams, and nightmares of a young writer and his battles to control his demons, vises, and life
