Prisoner to my own mind,
Wandering for peace I know I will not find.
The dark thoughts overwhelm me.
Left to my own devices, I am no longer free.
I drown myself in books,
Fictional words full of anything from magic, demons, or poems to crooks .
Sometimes it's not enough.
I'm cuffed,
to this terrible thing called my mind.
It pokes and prods at me and tells me to grow a spine.
How kind,
this generous brain of mine.
YOU ARE READING
Shorts, Thoughts, and All That Good Stuff
PoetryAll my short stories and poems will go here from now on because I'm too lazy to make a cover for each one I post. I hope you enjoy my poems, stories, and thoughts as much as I love writing them. Original Picture: Just Print by MAMPrint (sxc.hu)
