Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2016
There's a place
Where the light
Won't find you,
Deep inside.

There's a place,
Where the hope,
Is so cold,
Deep inside.

We have all been scorched
Down the flat of our feet,
From the walk, to the top
Of our lowered heads,
And it was decided we didn't want to do this anymore.

I see my clique have made it quite clear they've been winning more battles now,
I walk around the camp checking out their paintings and hearing their chants,
And I see hands holding hands, keeping them too,
The saving was done by brave, obscure tunes,
Different sound waves crafted by two, saved them all and grew them new.
The art everywhere and battle scars,
I smile a little smile but it's a sad one in my mind,
It's all out of my insider thoughts,
It's all out of my insider gloom.

I should fall into these groups,
Of survival in the dark, but it's way over my top,
And I shuffle back to my place and same all spot to watch from a far,
And the whispers declare this is the darkest dark.

There's a place,
Where the light,
Won't find you,
Deep inside.

But there's a way,
And a choice we can make,
To find it instead.
Way outside.

Now... what is it in my heart, that I like this dark?....
Sılver ın My Mınd
Written by
Sılver ın My Mınd  Sudan.
(Sudan.)   
904
   --- and strawberry fields
Please log in to view and add comments on poems