⪻Poem #65⪼
Within these walls,
echoes of silence grow,
Aching whispers,
a melancholy echo.
Like shattered glass,
my spirit scatters.
Torn fragments of dreams,
No, nothing matters.
Yearning for connection,
a desperate plea.
As I please everyone—
Is this even me?
I can't rise up high,
As I fear this solitude.
Falling from the sky,
Even though,
I perfected my attitude.
I can't find my art,
Have I lost my own heart?
Help...
this loneliness
is making me
fall
apart.
