Cold stares,
and wincing glares.
Cutting like knives so deep.
Sometimes the barest souls are the ones we want to keep.
A whirlwind of faces,
scattered around so many places.
A kind one here.
A hellish one there.
All you get is a drowning tear.
Your mind is burning,
whilst your soul is turning.
Ever so slowly,
into something lowly.
YOU ARE READING
Inside My Head -Short poems
PoetryCome, fellow readers, and writers. Take a seat, pour a cup of your favorite drink, sit back, relax and delve deep into the corners of this poetry collection. Including; Sonnets, Couplets, free verse and short, this book will have a variety to choose...
