I can't think at all,
There's too many distractions,
My head is empty.
The cold makes me numb,
No cost big enough for warmth,
My body's empty.
A stomach growls,
Resonating from myself,
My stomach's empty.
And so I stand up,
Walk down the creaking staircase,
My house is empty.
I exit my house,
Walk down the abandoned street,
My town is empty.
I look around me,
There is no one I can see,
Lonely and empty.
Forever I walk,
Never seeing another,
My life is empty.
It all starts to fade,
Darkness sinking into me,
An empty nightmare.
YOU ARE READING
Burnt Memories
PoetryA collection of poems written by myself. If some seem to be less descriptive or meaningful than others, it may be one I had written back in 2012. I might even pull out some from 2008, when I was seven and eight years old. So yes, that means I am...
