"then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt in solitude, when we are least alone."
infinite
this is so boring,
endless torture
and sitting here, staring blankly
at black.
this is so pointless,
the goosebumps
endless shivers, bottled emotions
yet we sit.
what do they know
they don't play by the rules
this is their playing field
and they wish to make us
one of them,
a blade of grass
among billions.
but we cannot conform
we will not conform
for we are infinite.
YOU ARE READING
the musings of a wallflower
Poesía"that day, he came to me and pointed at the sky, saying, 'What a beautiful, beautiful moon.' but he was all i could see" i write of infinite dreams to escape harsh reality. shortlisted for wattys 2018
