He stood there again
Right by that closet door in his bland white suit
Except, his suit was dirty
His once creamy skin, a transparent lace
His rolled up sleeves exposing scars apon scars
His whispy hands bloody and feet chopped off
I wanted to help him
To save my dearest friend
But then I remembered;I'm not sane
Not really anyway
He stood there again
Right by that closet door in his bland white suit
Except, his suit was dirty
His once creamy skin, a transparent lace
His rolled up sleeves exposing scars apon scars
His whispy hands bloody and feet chopped off
I wanted to help him
To save my dearest friend
But then I remembered; I'm not sane
Not really anyway
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Mental Health Poems
PoesiaThis is a collection of poems by authors that wrote about mental health, mental health, and any suggestions made by you guys.
