There's a hole in my soul
And a hole in my head
And I'll keep digging these holes
Until the day that I'm dead
Because inside these holes
I berry the treasures I've found
In all the small moments
In ever single sound
I keep them all in treasure chests
Crafted from parts of my heart
So they stay safe and sound
So they don't come apart
And these holes that I keep them in
They tear me apart
But I'd say it's worth it
Because these holes are my art
YOU ARE READING
Bedtime Poetry
PoetryPoetry that describes the things I can't put into simpler words.
