Knock Knock.
I listen.
Silence.
Is that it? All I've come this far for?
Knock Knock.
Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen...
Silence. All the way.
Maybe...
Maybe there's nobody home.
And silence reigned, evermore.
YOU ARE READING
For The Brave, For The Bleeding
PoetryA collection of poems for the strong who are fighting, for those who have somebody to fight for, for those who still knows what it's like to love till you hurt all over... A set of original works from your pocket unicorn. Feel free to comment on his...
