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The Truth.
My hearts broken.
frozen in place.
weak and hopeless.
the look on my face
screams to be seen as a poet.
Instead I reek of broken
peices,
stuffed together with glue.
In hopes it creates a picture that’s true.
the truth is in me but found in you.
the people I write to.
© The Depressionist
frozen in place.
weak and hopeless.
the look on my face
screams to be seen as a poet.
Instead I reek of broken
peices,
stuffed together with glue.
In hopes it creates a picture that’s true.
the truth is in me but found in you.
the people I write to.
© The Depressionist
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