xsillybearx
New member
I’ve been stuck here far too long
Like a record player, stuck on repeat,
I drag my useless plug along
There is tape on the phones.
There are drapes over homes.
And there’s dirt in the paper
The black, inky
Bones.
I wasn’t born here in this place,
White lies were etched unto my skull
Ever since the storks came braced
Against the rain.
Winged, angry things.
To the corners they were chained
And had my burden to blame
The Poet, author’s
Shame.
Like a record player, stuck on repeat,
I drag my useless plug along
There is tape on the phones.
There are drapes over homes.
And there’s dirt in the paper
The black, inky
Bones.
I wasn’t born here in this place,
White lies were etched unto my skull
Ever since the storks came braced
Against the rain.
Winged, angry things.
To the corners they were chained
And had my burden to blame
The Poet, author’s
Shame.