Barely moving,
I sit in silence.
Thinking of everything
And nothing.
And if what defines us.
And what a deafening silence it is.
YOU ARE READING
Late Night Poetry
PoetryRambly poems that I write late at night. I only just realised that rhymed, how ironic. Uploads every Friday
Silence
Barely moving,
I sit in silence.
Thinking of everything
And nothing.
And if what defines us.
And what a deafening silence it is.
