Inside is a pit of sorrows but its also empty.
people tend to stay away from me,
But what's really scary is that its silent, quite as if dead.
Its not dead though theirs blood gallons of the stuff, but enough of that will go to the head.
Its a pretty messed up place.
Where memories and thoughts tend to race,
to see who gets there first the action or the emotion.
My mind feels like its under construction.
But the cite was abandoned.
For years its been closed.
People come and go, some try to fix me even in the rain.
Leaving more and more of themselves into my brain.
(Part two tomorrow)
YOU ARE READING
My Poems
PoetryThis are poems that ive created I hope you like them I'll post one every two days
