Wednesday, August 17, 2016


I scribble my drama.
I stroke my pain with a comma.
Into your minds, my story doesn't squeeze in.
Seldom do I holler, but never for no reason.

Felt adjudged.
Thus, trampled.
Bullied by the assumptions they're hittin'.

The slashed heart.
A stained trust.
A bugged mind.
That feeling of belongingness you could no longer find.

Whimper flow.
Let go; live for tomorrow.
The drops of liquid from the eyes,
Don't lead to a ghastly demise.

No comments:

Post a Comment