My brain is constantly colliding
Millions of thoughts that are not hiding
The thoughts of all that could and could not
What would happen if I sort
Sort though my feelings of hope and fear
Confusing all I hold close and dear
These demons that have flood my brain
They will come out to play again.
Their games are not a charming affair
But what else do I have to bare
But living with no meaning
And crying till I'm demeaning
Anything that holds any hope
Might as well get that rope
Tie it around my brain
So that I cannot feel any pain
When those thoughts plague again
Till I have nothing left to drain.
Goodbye to all that hope that I will regain life
But sometimes thoughts become a bitter knife
For those who lead a torn-up life.
YOU ARE READING
My Little Book Of Poems
PoetryI've recently got into poems and I wanted to write some of my own.
