Theres a darkness pressing in on me
And I feel the air deaden
Like lead in my lungs
A shyness pressing to the corner
My beaming light hidden
Burning feebly
There faces seem painted
With insincerity
I look about
Light smoldering in my eyes
And wonder about their thoughts
Their slimy gears turning
And think about my own
Shuffling, jostling
Ineffably silent
YOU ARE READING
Meandering Thoughts
PoetryMy very first book of poetry throughout which a handful of thoughts are tossed, and even crafted, onto the page. I'll update regularly. Here's hoping it's a good one.
