deepundergroundpoetry.com
Shackled
Here i am, in this bedlam.
Shaking my fists, slitting my wrists.
Pounding on the walls, awaiting for them to fall.
Hoping this malison will be lifted.
So i can once again be free from me.
Shaking my fists, slitting my wrists.
Pounding on the walls, awaiting for them to fall.
Hoping this malison will be lifted.
So i can once again be free from me.
Published 24th Jun 2018
Author's Note
Really dislike how i closed this poem. Would love some feedback!
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 502
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
