Quick prose

Sitting in my favourite chair, life not seeming to go anywhere,

Sirens screaming past the door, always running to god knows where,

Silence creeping close to my ear, bringing with it the trembling fear,

Staring into the nothingness of the room, want to crawl back to the womb,

Sultry lonesome little boy, lost his favourite little toy,

Stupid boy and outcast child, feeling like I’ve been defiled,

Screaming out without making a sound, why do you always come around,

Scurrying round in the dark, like cochroaches my life is stark,

So that’s the end of my verse, now you see how much perverse.


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