Misery’s afoot
And she’s slinking through doors.
I try to retreat
But my curtain
Doesn’t reach the floor.
There must be
A place for all this pain.
It hides
Within me
Memorizing my name.
That old tattered
Chest black as ages at best
Has swept through
The years and found me in here.
Is it
Within me or do I
Hide within?
Is it
The darkness
Or am I
Full of sin?
There’s no place
Left for empty spaces.
Am no being
Only emptiness weaving.

Hope is gone.
Days are long.
Someone tell me
I’m wrong.
The ages
Are years
Only fueled
By tears.


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Filed under poem, poetry, Uncategorized

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