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I’m a broken poet,
Unsure of who I truly am.
I write stories that are not mine,
Thoughts foreign, emotions distant.
Blood seeps from my eyes,
Yet the pain is numb,
Still, I write,
Until words I don’t know
Carve themselves into my skin.
My mind is a battlefield,
A relentless torment of unfamiliar words and emotions.
Why do I continue,
Is it a reminder of what once was?
No one to lay my head upon for answers,
So many stories penned,
But which, if any,
Is truly mine?
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Clown
I really like this, it’s a good portrayal of mental struggle as a person and as an artist
thanky youu!!!!!
im glad you liked it.
by Marc; ; Report