Poetry Medicine 💌


I want to move
16/04/22

I have sliden into the pothole of murky contempt.
Not the prettiest way to fall.
why did i try so hard, why did i try at all.
The colours seam to have lured you in and put you in a trance.
God knows I tried, he knows i tried my very best.
No one told me mixing all your fascinating colours gave you a disturbing brown.
How do you humanise your hero? 
All I am left with is a waste of paint. Wasted potential.
How do I take down that golden pedestal you have been sitting on?
the gold is starting to flake, my dear



1 Kudos

Comments

Displaying 0 of 0 comments ( View all | Add Comment )