Laying on his bed
Living with headphones on
In a world of innocences
Not knowing everyone's gone
Once he was cool
He lived with each day
Soon he ran out of words
With nothing else to say
Living as a king
Not knowing what he's seen
Drinking away every night
Just another wasted has been
Basking in former glory
Still sitting in his thrown
Look around him though
All his followers have grown
Thinking about his glory
Missing the good old days
Nothing left but photographs
Wishing that someone had stayed
Stepping down the stairs
Feeling just getting loose
Getting closer and closer
To the hanging noose
Without looking back
His mind raced fast
Filled with the little hope
That this will take him back to his past
YOU ARE READING
Poems From A Awkward Teen Bohemian
PoesíaJust some random poems I wrote, a form of accepting who I am I guess. Anyway I'm open to criticism, just note I'm far from good at it
