Harsh white walls,
Slowly feeling;
Panic crashing down,
Plaster peeling.
Colours run, across the walls.
4 canvases reach up to the celeing.
All Freckled with alot of age,
The plaster keeps on peeling.
4 aged walls close you in,
Your mind is constantly reeling.
Confused pandemonious thoughts.
The plaster still peeling.
YOU ARE READING
Ink (Trigger Warning)
PoesiaPoetry written by me. Inspiration found in everyday life continues to spark ideas for my poems, if anyone reading this has any poetry please tell me I would love to read it. Top ranking: #11 in poems
