No one can deny this feeling we all once owned
The feeling of being alone
The feeling where there is no place you call home
When you're stuck inside a filthy hole
The place where they mention love and you feel nothing at all
Love's a beautiful thing they say until it all falls
Love's a beautiful lie just like life where we all just crawl
Like roaches on our walls
How filthy are we all
Telling lies in just one putrid call
Where every route is the same thing a warning for our fall
Where everyone's your puppet doll
It's the same thing over again no matter where you go
A chain without an end, in your mind it overflows
They're all the same you say and three cheers to the crows
They're just putting on an a cursed puppet show.
Love's a funny thing, it laughs when you're crying on the floor
It laughs when you're denying it's your fault
It laughs when it leaves out the door
Then you laugh to its occult
Now tell me who are we all?!
YOU ARE READING
A Peom
PoetryThey're poems of sorts. All of which troubled me inside my mind. All the words, the words I've worked to find there place. Each and every one of them tells something, even the usual "the". I am here to feed your tounge. You're welcome
