I don’t know what this is about
It is the worst poem
Without a doubt
In my mind
To be alone can be sublime
But to feel alone
In a room full of people
Is an act of evil
A cacophony of myopathy
Is drowning us everyday
So much pain everywhere
No one stops to care
Staring off into the distance
A black abyss
What is this world?
Has it always been this way?
No
No it hasn’t
There was a time where you could just move away
No need to pay
For anything
As long as you could find
Or make all you needed
There was no authority to be heeded
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Comments (1)
An evil known by far too many every day, my friend.