you were so broken
and still are nowhere near being healed
still wandering, a vagabond
comforting yourself with the lies
that that place is supposed to be home
how?
how could it be
that cold, dark and lonely dessert
filled with nothing but clouded skies
ones that hide the truth
ones darken the mood
not one thing to hold onto
not one person to confide in
is what you were convinced about
doing things you regret till this day
to lighten to burden
making new friends
turned out they were enemies
who keep stabbing you
while wiping your tears
and you still think you can tame them
when you are just sinking a bit deeper
YOU ARE READING
tales of the mentally disordered
Puisi'it's cold, dark and lonely but it's home' . . . . . . A very random collection of poems
