deepundergroundpoetry.com

Four cabin walls

The walls that hold my fragile mind have cracks and leaks and holes
And sometimes when I’m left alone they start to overflow
It’s not my problem so you see, I didn’t make the walls.
The bastards that constructed me were sleeping on the job!
Written by Tombird
Published
Author's Note
The title is an old song my mother would sing, it doesn’t really work with the poem but I’m shit at titles obviously
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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