Silence.
It's empty,
Dull,
Cold and lifeless.
Yet it's my favourite sound,
To ever surround you.
Laughing.
It's full,
Bright,
Warm and lively.
And it's my least favourite sound,
To come out of your sick mouth.
Mute.
Just silence it.
I don't want your fakery.
If I am going to go through hell and back,
I don't want to retell it,
Four times over.
In what world,
Do you think anyone would do that?
YOU ARE READING
Just A Mess
PoetryI'm not too sure as to what this is, but I often get bored and lost in my thoughts, so why not write them out? As I wrote I created poetic sentences, lines and phrases. So, I hope they can be enjoyed despite their mainly heavy topics. This book cove...
