White Walls

The stale white walls are caving

an emptiness 

chilling to the skin

 

Foggy vision, spinning into nauciousness

eating my thoughts

eating nothing

 

Plastered bright smiles

here to make things                      'better'

 

Pale face, wearing a grin

 trying to hold it in

 tight skin, clinging

insdie

White walls are caving

 

I run

anywhere but here

Destination so near, yet never to appear

leading behind

frustration so great

but

the more I struggle the more you sink

 

letting go

caving in

 

 

 

 

I rise

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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