The walls are thin, too anorexic,
Trembles like an epileptic.
In my echo chamber,
I can hear them stutter.
Inner voices apoplectic.
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 9:46 PM UTC
The walls are thin, too anorexic,
Trembles like an epileptic.
In my echo chamber,
I can hear them stutter.
Inner voices apoplectic.
Request permission to use this poem