Am I the only one falling?
Or are we dropping like flies?
Is someone plotting
Or are we planning our own demise?
Do you hear?
Or is it just
agonizing fear?
We kill ourselves
from inside out
no one can hear us
even when we shout
YOU ARE READING
Naive
PoesiaWORDS WERE THE LIFEBLOOD OF POETRY, AND I REMAINED SILENT. A collection of poetry. For the people who don't feel at home in their own skin, for the poets, for the people who are depressed, for the people who aren't depressed, for the people with wo...
