Am I a wallflower?
Merging into the bricks.
Am I a ghost?
Floating about in the rip between reality and the unknown.
Am I a cloud?
Seen but not acknowledged, heard of but not cared for.
Am I a star?
Individual but not unique and not worth anything to look at.
Am I real?
Do I have a place in this galaxy?
4.3.16
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Paintbox
PoetryPoems from the inner corners of my brain, under my nails and the end of my paintbrush.
