Jan 2018
Every now and then I quake
During this awkward scene I make
And it surely exists, that I fear
Has anything up 'til now been crystal clear?
In a small glass container
Lies a single black drop of venom
That any moment
Could shatter the glass
And be freed
And when that day should come
It will be the end of my days.
During this awkward scene I make
And it surely exists, that I fear
Has anything up 'til now been crystal clear?
In a small glass container
Lies a single black drop of venom
That any moment
Could shatter the glass
And be freed
And when that day should come
It will be the end of my days.
(Apologies about the hiatus. I haven't had much inspiration/time for poems, and this one I did off the top of my head. This one speaks about any possible negativity lingering in my system from the last few months. Even if things seem much better now, there is always a possibility to go right back to the bottom.)
