Cold rain falls from a cloudless sky
As I wonder "who am I?"
Is my identity still me,
Or am I a shell of who I use to be?
Familiarity has crumbled into the abyss
And I am surrounded by my loneliness.
Pyrrhic situations with panacea maquillage
As I brood with a woebegone visage.
A poignant feeling I can no longer resist
Have I really left my home for this?
YOU ARE READING
Plastic Fish
PoetryAnd this will be the part of the story My children will never know
