I stand on the edge,
Fingers chilled in ice.
The glass is frosty,
Tinged with sadness,
And the tears I've cried.
It echoes,
Solemn in silence.
My screams drown,
By layers,
Looking through the glass.
YOU ARE READING
Ponderings in the dark
PoetryBroken dreams and desires stay, In a place locked far from sight. Being brought up in a dream, Keeping us up each night.
