The Voice of Her Life

Sad, sad
Tears, all dried up
Her silence has never been heard
Gloomy is her mind,
Like tear gas in her life
Another needle to the vein,
And the rush...
Like a thousand ton train
Yet the tracks lead her astray
Dull and dreary becomes dawn
Pulling closer to the sheets
An urge to die...
There is no good end to this life, just an end of life
Breaking the silence was never her choice
Finding a high was the voice of her life...

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Related entries

The Book is Being Written

How we observe and how we reflect.

The Dreary Faceless

The observations and reflections of a traveller in a foreign land.

The Model House

The facades of a perfect home.

The Woman Who

This peom is about a woman in my life, who is suppose to be there for me but is not.


Dreams, desires, id and ego.