I sit and I stare
At all the little white lines,
Each one reminding me
Of a dark and painful time.
And I feel it creeping back,
That deep and dark loneliness,
And I can feel it wrapping itself
Around my soul again.
I sit and I stare
At all my little white lines
Each one reminding me
Of a million little lies
Of all the cover ups and lies
Told as I fell back under,
Yet I can't help but wish to return again.
I sit and I stare
At all my little white lines
And I wonder how many people
Have some just like mine
I wonder if they're lonely
Because they finally found out the truth
That they've never been anything interesting
And suppose they never will be too.
YOU ARE READING
The Lonely Hour
PoetryNot everything rhymes Not everything has to Of all that is bright And what hides in darkness The loving The hiding The living The Binding It hurts us not To follow a purpose To quell our minds dullness And to find our own fullness. Of sentences Of...
