a repetition of each passing day;
the same dark alleys filled with bleak expressions
lacking discretion and a mind filled with apprehension
consistently traveling the same distance
she'd leave this place in an instance
for vast open fields, winding roads,
starry nights
longing to gaze upon such alluring sights
but the repetition does not cease
these are just mere daydreams
to fill the void,
in hopes of breaking this cycle
that seems to never end
maybe one day she'll finally bend
forget everything she once knew
and search for a better view
YOU ARE READING
poems :-)
Poesíaliterally just a copy of my journal I hope whoever reads this will enjoy it and maybe someone can relate, thanks <3
