Pathetic
Overwhelming thoughts pour into my head with every breath that I take.
Maybe if it was a bit more quiet I wouldn’t shut down from every little mess I make.
In time this empty shell gets filled with pity and loathing, for the person that I’ve made.
I know I will lose control one day, and the tears will flow as I finally break.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.