When he was broke and didn't know what else to do,
He gave himself another scar or two
There was no way other he could hide, how much he died inside.
He drifted through life day by day,
Each and everyone virtually the same,
Soon he didn't know any other way,
And didn't know what the fuck else to do,
So he attempted to make it faded away,
The end seemed just as clear as day
His lights faded but came back changed
Revised and rearranged,
Realizing my fate just a little too late.
Why would he do this,
How could he do this?
How did he ever have the strength to do this?
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...
