PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I'm scared of tomorrow, the stars above shoot as if to celebrate the suns vast light coming to it's closure. Apologetic and ashamed, dreams don't save face and I'm not ready to say it's over. Life feels more like a game, a contest of dreams and pain, I left mine waiting at the door. .  . Waiting on anything.

God knows the mirror shows the better side, not the inside. The wind changes, the chapters faded, the steps I'm taken are further, a empty memory paves the way to a time with less feeling, less color. The pages again turn washed down with dull thought as everything else fades into a whiskey's burn. Hope feels like faith and faith feels impossible to a remorseful light hiding in the shadows. The dull colors of the world leave me mortified. Insomnia you terrible bastard, let me dream of a better time