I'm not in control.
I don't hold the pen.
I don't decide
When I've reached the end.
My life is a series
Of paper and pencil.
I'm a sketched being.
I'm just a stencil.
I've tried multiple times
To live off the page,
But I don't like it out there.
The world's a scary place.
I think I will stay
In my white and gray house;
Stare through my window
Never going out.
YOU ARE READING
Book of Poetry
PoetryMy feelings are written So I may find peace I hope you relate To these words as you read
