This little box,
Where everything is kept.
This little box,
Light blue with a shallow depth.
Why is it now,
I notice,
This little box,
Forever stuffed with my worry,
And regrets,
Is starting to show wear.
Small bits and pieces,
Of it, all stuck in the corners.
A distant memory of what it used to be.
This little box,
Has had it all,
Everything I ever knew.
And now I wait for the moment,
It works no more because,
This little box,
Is showing wear and tear.
YOU ARE READING
The Damning Of My Poet Soul
PoetryAnd all it took was one neat paragraph in pen. Enjoy some small teen me starting from like 2016 to like idk late 2018 I think early2019 I'm doing some rereading and retitling cuz numbers idk Thank you readers for over 4k reads. like is it good tho...
