Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2014
I've been here before.
The grass is so withered.
Can't reach anymore.
To heavy to wish.
Is there a place on T.V, where I can find the reasons why you call me blind?

Am I praying to the voice in my head?
Am I laughing at the tears ahead?
Am I looking at you?
Am I deaf for your kind of songs?
Am I blind for your favorite shows?
Am I tired to take a stroll, in this coffee table bookstore>
Am I that scared to take this role?

Here have some glue.
One day you'll find its use.
Because here's another promise. Don't worry.
You're about to lose what's useless.
Fill
Written by
Fill  Earth
(Earth)   
251
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems