It is with hope
You all think I will speak of
But woe is you!
For everything plays
With the saddest of jazz,
A scratched record on loop.
Maybe I'm wrong?
I think not.
It'll be alright
Is what you preach
The little dream of yours
Oh how sweet!
Innocent baby
You're in for a treat!
This illusion of yours
Will be eliminated.
There is no such hope
In a world desecrated with pandemonium
YOU ARE READING
The Unexpected
PoetryA collection of poems about my life, my feelings, my thoughts, basically about me. It's the things I don't ever speak of but write down instead. Warning: some poems may trigger you so read at caution A/N: They're not the best since I just write them...