What a shame
Emptiness, that is.
Those who never feel
never loose
and yet loss
its overshadowing dignity
demands to be felt
and so it crawls from the forgotten crevices
and stands tall
ready to be acknowledged
whether by its master
or his friends
Don't you know
what is empty
was once felt
what is lost
was once found
what is shame
was once pride
it's easier than a child's rhyme.
Even the dampest emotions
can spark knowledge
which buries
denial
These empty halls
are the breeding nest
for the buzz of the past
Happiness is owed
and is no longer yours
So how can you even
show your face?
All is not lost.
So what a shame,
emptiness, that is.
YOU ARE READING
Mabye if I Fall Asleep I Won't Breathe Right
PoetryRelying on possibility, slumber, and the unknown sweet demise of death. This book is a collection of poems that are unrelated but as a whole struggle to portray the meaning of the title. Through my distorted vision, a lot of things might seem disjoi...
