Pounding sound,
deafening to bloody ear drums.
The rhythm changes,
the tempo--whatever that is--increasing
decreasing.
Ear plugs and headphones,
made for spitting out reality,
and the sweet sounds turn to warmth.
Reality sucks,
Most times I just want to put in my ear buds,
Blast music into my mind,
Sometimes I hope it finds a way to turn me deaf.
So I won't have to hear it,
Won't have to listen to the voices,
but then...I won't have an escape.
All I'll have is silence,
no more pounding rhythms,
constant patterns,
melodies,
or symphonies.
But I still want the world to disappear
I want to disappear from this world.
Why was I given life?
YOU ARE READING
Star Struck
PoetryThis is a little collection of poems I've made. Not sure how long I'll continue it, but I'll make a few. {Completed! There's a sequel book if you'd like to read it, the sequel is called "Milky Way"} Note: This was called "Book of Poems" previously...
