Held captive
was a memory
feign,
foreign,
estranged.
Set out on the street
was a void
lost,
empty,
yet free.
YOU ARE READING
Soliloquy
Poetryonly words bleed and I need all of it to feel alive. HR: #150 in Poetry
held.
Held captive
was a memory
feign,
foreign,
estranged.
Set out on the street
was a void
lost,
empty,
yet free.
