nothing
looking into
the real of the unknown,
spot'd glances felt,
but never shown.
looking for meaning,
but finding none.
self portrait of shame,
done.
simple to read
between the lines,
somehow never able
to define.
your world
should be breathed,
into a paper bag.
forgetting what it is,
you never had.
all eyes drifting
to the side,
to much pressure
has been applied.
clones trying to steal
thoughts of gold,
spinning a web
they call their own.
my words
like a web of spiders silk,
meaning
...
..
.
nothing
...
..
.
the real of the unknown,
spot'd glances felt,
but never shown.
looking for meaning,
but finding none.
self portrait of shame,
done.
simple to read
between the lines,
somehow never able
to define.
your world
should be breathed,
into a paper bag.
forgetting what it is,
you never had.
all eyes drifting
to the side,
to much pressure
has been applied.
clones trying to steal
thoughts of gold,
spinning a web
they call their own.
my words
like a web of spiders silk,
meaning
...
..
.
nothing
...
..
.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.