Something I wrote.
There’s an empty place refilled
Cut, dented, blood that spills
Beneath the surface underneath
There’s something I’ve yet to seek
There’s no one there except a lie
A hobby used to help subside
You’ll never know the things you want
A blank canvas that’s left to haunt
The things that were, they are no more
And what’s been done’s been done before
And what’s begun should now end
The only question now is when
This open post was written 3 months, 1 week ago | V/U/S: 150, 11, 3 | Edit Post | Leave a reply | Report Post
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