The silence creeps in like morning fog
The clock keeps on going
This never ending cycle
Tick after tick after tick.
Lying listlessly on the bed
Blank pages and pen in hand
Wanting to write, to pen these thoughts
Yet the words fail me.
A hollow, wanting to be filled
Not knowing what that entails.
Deafening sounds and echoing thoughts
Time to forget, time to stop.
YOU ARE READING
Sad souls
PoetryIn this inconsistent world, the only thing keeping me sane are these words I pen on paper •---•---•---•---•---• Poem and prose
