She was left in a dark room.
Alone she was in swoon.
Her eyes being to stray.
She's more conscious of things that appear the same.
For once she finally knew what was going through her brain.
She'd kept wondering if she'd become insane.
One more day left in the town she once knew.
One more day left with a person who cared to.
This is where her story ends.
In a place with a singular friend.
YOU ARE READING
|°Simply Structure°|
PoetryPoetry has always completely held me together. It's kind like how you breathe oxygen. It's something I have to do. Poetry is something like oxygen to me. Without it I wouldn't survive. ~ remember love is a crime and I'll do the time for loving what'...
