There are shadows moving across my prison walls.
Always moving, never sleeping, never pausing, never resting.
Always on the move to someplace else, while I am stuck here, never moving, never smiling, never escaping.
For the shadows are my thoughts, always dark and relentless.
And my prison is my mind, deep and evil and filled with demons.
And the words I write are my memories, preserved and never seen but my memory all the same.
And the words you utter are knives, slicing, stabbing, tearing into my flesh, a lifetime of betrayal, inside one single word.
There are shadows moving across my prison walls.
But we're they caused by you or by me?
YOU ARE READING
My Poems
Poesíahey whats up? this is a book of all the crappy poems i write. WARNING!! IF YOU DO NOT LIKE DEPRESSED POEMS, DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT READ THIS! also no mean criticizing. i know my spelling and grammar are terrible. if you want to give constructive...
