Step, step, step.
I'm here, I'm not well.
Step, step, step.
At this place that I call Hell.
Step, step, step.
It isn't really hell.
Step, Step.
But it makes me wanna yell.
Step, step.
I don't have comfort here, no shell.
Step, step.
Inner confliction, I have to quell.
Step.
My want to scream, dispel.
Step.
Save me, for this place I call Hell,
Step.
This is where part of my "family" lives, so well.
Stop.
One of them is the reason I cal it Hell.
YOU ARE READING
'' Bad Days Make Good Poems ''
PoetryA collections of poems in a variety of different styles. Updates are irregular as inspiration comes and goes- Hope they're enjoyable!
