Years upon years
Months upon months
Weeks upon weeks
All in vain, utterly pointless.
The only thing I feel is the loneliness that doesn't seem real
An all encompassing dark room creeps in on me subtly
As I collapse from the sickening pain I feel no one sees
For it is far too dark, no one is around
Everything you thought was, is not
It is what it isn't
People aren't what they are
They are what they aren't
YOU ARE READING
Wonderland poetry
PoetryThis book will be a collection of poetry made by me. A journey through sadness and happiness, and the abstract journey through wonderland.
