Outside
It's too bright
Too noisy
Too constricting
Filled with walking bodies
That I do not want to speak with
They'll ask me how I'm doing
I'll say I'm ok
But let's be honest
That's the answer that everyone gives
It's boring
So I rather stay in
And converse
With my own shadow
YOU ARE READING
A Madman's Attempt at Writing
PoesíaNothing to see here. Just a guy writting down his misery. Please move along
