poem3
Sometimes a need to share,
Means something more.
Reassured,
as you lay on the floor.
Beckon for them,
The screams and applause.
Idolized?
“At least he once was.”
You continue to pine,
A bare house grows.
Loneliness,
In line, in rows.
The fading freshly fester.
The house of happy hollowed.
From fear the fauna follow.
To tears that taint the trail.
And breathing water,
is spirits hideaway.
Inhale,
For last breaths getaway.
