The Talk Down

The talk down. 

The walk down the stairs.

Smooth words flow from my choking throat.

Words of hope cut the rope.

Or so it goes.

Patch up a dam, but it will break. 

Take a break from the stakes for my sake.

Fate's on a smoke break.

Anyway,

Words of hope don't teach you to cope.

Patches don't reach the sctratches engrained in your brain.

Freeze frame.

Are there tame minds?

Insane minds?

No. Just trained minds and

Time.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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