Slowly it bleeds out, seeping through the holes I forgot to patch up.
I don't want them to see, what's brewing inside of me.
They slip through my fingers and take a peek.
Most run, leaving me wounded and exposed.
Others stay, seeing what more they can dig out.
Then they take, take and don't give.
Its endless, or so they believe.
What will happen, when I close up forever?
Happiness doesnt exist, only emptiness.
So I will be an empty shell, slowly going about my day?
Or will I blow away like a forgotten ghost?
-( a.p.)
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My Poetry
PoetryA bunch of poems. All are mine. I don't write poetry much but when I do, it's here.
