Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Not sleeping a lot.
The days are longer.
Your body grows weaker.
Your mind turns inward,
Over thinking every act.
Do they test us,
Like rats running mazes?
You weren't a friend
Is what you hear
Once you've over thought
Her constant silent treatment.
Now you're a wreck.
You start healing again,
Yet this time seems
Quite harder than before.