Close the lid, for I don't want to come out
Torn into pieces in what my ears should hear amidst the shout
Footsteps walking, plates crashing, arguments that are endless
Sometimes I just wondered, how can one not see that proving you won is pointless
When the string of your fate with him is now a mess
YOU ARE READING
One Hundred Fifty
RandomFifty, Fifty, Fifty A writing challenge for myself is to create fifty poems, fifty essays, and fifty one-shot stories, every single prekeng day to make it a hundred and fifty days of honing my skills and giving sparks to my interest. Here's the deal...
