Doomed

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  • Sadness

    Doomed
    I hear a constant knocking on my door.
    My windows are black.
    In the background all that i hear is a click-clack.
    Like a gun bein cocked my mind is blocked.
    I dont kno wat to do i feel like my life is,
    THROUGH

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    BabyGurl69’s Poems (3)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    Doomed 1 03/12/2009
    You 1 03/12/2009
    look at it 2 02/10/2009
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