deepundergroundpoetry.com
Untitled
Hollow eyes.
Longing for the spark
That once illuminated
The corners of the room.
Just a whisper.
Barely there.
Contained in the mind.
Too afraid to cross that line.
Its time to start over.
Longing for the spark
That once illuminated
The corners of the room.
Just a whisper.
Barely there.
Contained in the mind.
Too afraid to cross that line.
Its time to start over.
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