The Writers Voice
The World's
Favourite Literary Website
Aint It Grand
by
Matt Dotson
I’m broken
Every ounce of my heart has been crushed
Words spoken
I thought my soul had been touched
Disappointment
Soul shattered, years wasted, days withered into nothing
Resentment
Open wounds, burning salt, rage overwhelming
Empty
Screams echo from this baron land I call my mind
Lonely
While grasping tightly to this false sense of security I’ve come to find
Nothing
Hours spent loathing in my room
Hating existence
To the thoughts of tomorrow and its doom
I give no resistance
Suffering within my own limits, fixed on death
Inhaling
Only to find that I’m short of breath
Suffocation
Critique this work
Click on the book to leave a comment about this work
