I don’t know what I deserve anymore.
They say the world,
but I think smaller.
An ant on my tiny finger,
it’s world is my fingertip,
wondering the labyrinth
of my finger print.
Each callis it stumbles,
until it falls into sleep
under my thumbnail.
I feel as if I wander my thoughts,
it’s walls as tall as my doubts.
I can never find a way out.
Instead, I stumble on hardships, confidence and hopelessness,
only to fall asleep snug
in only a blanket of the unknown.
I belong to my own world of thought, though I often wonder if it is
what I deserve.
Oct 26, 2020
Oct 26, 2020 at 1:58 AM UTC
I don’t know what I deserve anymore.
They say the world,
but I think smaller.
An ant on my tiny finger,
it’s world is my fingertip,
wondering the labyrinth
of my finger print.
Each callis it stumbles,
until it falls into sleep
under my thumbnail.
I feel as if I wander my thoughts,
it’s walls as tall as my doubts.
I can never find a way out.
Instead, I stumble on hardships, confidence and hopelessness,
only to fall asleep snug
in only a blanket of the unknown.
I belong to my own world of thought, though I often wonder if it is
what I deserve.
