Sitting again on the ledge
days went like a sledge.
The wind tendered my body,
the blue night engulfed me.
Lone stars in the night,
singlely shining bright.
No one knew the pain,
it was all that gain.
Left hanging and left hung,
could there possibly be right?
A single window open
held no significance,
compared to the many
that were neighbouring.
Feelings numb from the cut,
mouth screwed shut like a mut.
Cut or be cut,
no one bothered.
For that lone girl sitting on the ledge,
prepared to befallen.
YOU ARE READING
The lone window
PoetryPoetry, possibly. . Feelings seem to come out in words, words can cut and scar, scars can help to make one become better. It is either you climb up or you fall. I chose to fall.
