The routine of following blank faces has led me no where but conformity
Joy and happiness had their lives being slowly sucked away by these fowl creatures
I salvage whatever I can find to save them
It's difficult to do so and I'm the last of my kind
The last who cares and the last who gives a damn
With the living thing in hand, they began to catch up to me
Cornered, I use what's left of it
Not enough to save them, yet enough to save myself
Running back into the dark alleyway, I see them, shriveling and fading away into nothingness
There's no time, I have to do it, for their sake
In the hopes that someone out there may do the same
My time's up and I begin to change
My once immortal self is nothing now but a blank face in the sea full of conformity
YOU ARE READING
Abstract
PoetryWords may be the best medicine. But they can also do more harm than good. Here's a spontaneous collection of words, vignette's, short stories and poetry combined into a timeless and relevant output that not only comes from experience but also from t...
