Hollow Its Your Last Poem by amy hourie

Everyday is a run of the mill
For which there is nothing to fulfill
Alone and bored I look
For something that has betook
In my mind I say aloud 'why cant I be proud'
The mind and eternal bleak tunnel
With no bright light to make it fun-filled
Ubiquitously aching
By now demanding it quaking
A volcano erupts inside
Filling with enmity
This is merely the only sentiment
Camouflaged by the false ingredient
I despise it entirely
So why cant you?
You realize this pain
But why must you refrain?
Heading to nowhere
Yet somewhere
Aspiring to change
Soon emptied from estranged
The spark is still small
But most of all...
Its your call