How much?
An item on a shelf, hidden behind ideas
No price will be put on an idea
Have a penny for my mind
Fog
Muddy memories
Spilt upon your contaminated eyes
I come with luggage
Bottled up within a capsule
That urges to explode
To be free
To spread my roots
Dig deeper
I'm stopped by my surroundings
A pot put in place
To prevent roots from spreading
To contain
Those who dream,
in something that can be controlled
I'm not a video game
Instructions won't guide you
Buttons and plugs won't supply you energy
Electricity
Answers
Neither an item nor plant nor video game,
As what can truly be controlled?
A/N Hi guys, as this is my first chapter of this book, I won't be accepting any requests just yet, as I have pre written some of the following poems. Once I post all of them I will be open to requests and ideas. Don't forget to comment and vote, thanks loves xx
YOU ARE READING
how, why?
PoetryHow do we get through our days and still, come out alright How do we rise from the earth dawn and dusk with the pressure of blocks concrete society all piled on top six feet under pages upon pages of the same boring stuff same. boring. stuff... yet...
