My own basic needs are missing.
Say, where have they gone on this day?
I will be drinking and kissing,
While April showers into May.
Lurking beneath the cracked floorboards.
It is as I have prophesied;
With shadows guiding me onwards.
As the wind increases with speed,
And my thoughts becoming consumed.
I need to see if I still bleed,
Otherwise, I am marked as doomed.
To leave a house that is haunted,
This frown has to turn upside down.
And to achieve what I wanted,
A deep cleanser is needed now.
Another octametre poem here. I feel like I could’ve added more to this, but my mind is scrambled eggs right now, so perhaps sometime in the near future I’ll add onto it.
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