Walking home, looking up at the sky,
But not keeping my hopes high.
The halls that once echoed happiness,
Now cry in silence and haunt my nights.
Emptiness once felt like a myth,
But now my darkest reality.
All I do is grieve these days,
The pink or green or blue days are now rusty
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.