Shrinking in a corner,
pressed into a wall;
do they know i'm present,
am I here at all?
Is there a written rule book,
that tells you how to be-
all the right things to talk about-
that everyone has but me?
Slowly I am withering-
a flower deprived of sun;
longing to belong to,
somewhere or someone.
- Lang Leau
YOU ARE READING
Infinity
Poetry- A book of poems - *this book is a collab book so if anybody has any poems pm me and I'll put them in and give you the credit* | Poems by me: some them are just my favorite ones I've read or little things that keep me going | some will be long and...
