"yought" poems
My chest feels compressed
as my mind wonders back.
There was a time things were hard
a time I felt depressed.
Sometimes I would run away
to the park in freedom street.
As a little girl
some days felt grey.
Never used to give a ****
as time moved on.
Always acting out
as my yought began.
the plate fell on the ground
and I'm covered in sweat.
In the archives of my mind
theres secrets to be found.
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 2:41 PM UTC