High Wall

Can anybody love or cut me,
I find they just interchange.
Anything to make me feel,
Any damn role, your stage.

Walls rise up bombarded again,
Defense not needed but I’m tired.
Worst part of dreaming is waking,
sound of the gun which she fired.

What the hell am I, not much to tell,
When you can never get them to stay.
Special, awe you, amazing, and loved,
Then why am I ‘here’ and why do I still feel this way?
-Thomas Spychalski

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: