The screams, they corrode my mind
The shouts they exclaim doubt
My back aches from all the slouching
My fingers won’t tap out
-
The gloves of night protect thee
From going through more agony
But when I wake
My hands pulse
Gasping, “Allow me to breath”
-
For I am chaos
Lost in a world
One too many for my mind
-
Yet I sit
At awkward hours
Having the urge to write
-
The clock strikes Midnight too soon
And soon the sun is up
My body losses concentration
As I feel the urge to sit up
-
But my head pushes me down
My thoughts pound
At the air above me
And tell me that it is time
To let go
And finally,
Sleep
YOU ARE READING
Condemning Conspiracy
PoetryCensure the scheme of those who know not what they have done but reveal the results with a light show. Third book of the Evolution series brings the passion of poetry to life ending the series with a bow.
