The wishing well of dreams
Deep in my eye
Has dried up.
Each night I stare at the sparkling sky
Trying to think of how to fix my emotions
No mortal tool can bind the damage done.
So will my blue ocean eyes turn to grey today?
Who knows.
I'll just keep my head down
Pay my dues
And collapse with the sun
YOU ARE READING
Desolation boy 3 - help me
PoetryThis one is for the ones who don't feel like they exist. And the ones who never get a break from pain. All poems are from my head, heart, soul and personal experiences 🛑TRIGGER WARNING🛑
