Thinking

3 1 0

Every while, every time,
I think from daylight to midnight,
Feeling that one unheard chime,
Ever so slowly taking away my sight.

I think, about everything,
A broken doll that still sings,
Whether I'm awake, or I'm asleep,
Every moment, I hear them all speak.

They murmur to me in whispers,
Just the feels of it makes me stir,
They always tell me I'm useless,
And when I ask, should I end it?

Yes.

Fleeting (A Book Of Poetry)Read this story for FREE!