Who am I?
How do I see myself?
Do I see myself in happiness,
Or do I see myself in health?
It's a blur,
Nothing more.
It's dying,
Of that I'm sure.
Nothing to hear,
Nothing to see,
Nothing to know
And nothing to be.
YOU ARE READING
An Amalgamation of Words
PoetryI'm almost as bad at writing descriptions as I am at writing poems, but at least I tried. Sharing my inner turmoil, one poorly worded sentence at a time.
