You,
And your lonely self.
Locked up,
In your prison called room.
You lie down,
Hoping to fall asleep.
But then your mind,
Races ahead.
What will I do?
Now that I am alone?
Who will help me?
If I can't voice my thoughts?
Looking out the window,
All you see is the dark sky.
Looking up at the ceiling,
You feel trapped.
So you get up,
Grab your only precious item: your heart.
You head out the room,
Bare feet.
You walk out the main door,
Onto the empty street.
And you keep walking,
The journey never ending.
There's no one but you,
And the night repeating itself.
You feel eternal,
Your body showing no sign of exhaustion.
It's true that the earth is round,
Because you face no dead end.
How long will you walk?
If your body never tires?
How long will you keep going?
If nothing can stop you?
Surely there has to be an end,
To even the worst or the best.
Surely someone has to notice,
A stray heart and an untiring soul.
One that seems to haunt the same streets,
Trapped in some invisible bubble.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
My Painful Plea
PoesiaI worry about things, and they make me cry. There are those days when I keep saying, why? I blame it on myself, for all that pain. When I got confused and picked the wrong lane. Poems I write, may mean no shit to you, but to me.. They're my handke...
