The Truth
I have a lot of hope and might,
that keeps me awake throughout the night.
As I lay upon this bed,
I try to make up what is replaying in my head.
The time passes slowly hour by hour,
thinking about all that was said.
I take another breath to ease my mind,
but I find myself hiding behind...
what I call The Truth.
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.