Dreamless Poem by Saint Cynosure

Dreamless



Dreamless is what I've become,
a useless hand without a thumb.
A mouth with sound and only teeth,
without a tongue it cannot speak.
My spirit crushed by all the lies,
thats left me empty deep inside.
With no desire to carry on,
my war with life is all but gone.
Dreamless is what I've become...

Thursday, July 7, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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