Nothing seems to be the same as it used to be
Colors have became black and white in my eyes, every goodbye seems to be the last.
Everything so gloomy and happy, things from the past are now the future.
Nothing is the way I feel, not a bit of warmth in the 902 cell.
Nothing is this cell room with dark greys and tone whites, somewhere far in the night with a flash to write the words out my throat onto this sheet.
Nothing fills the room but the fright of happiness and tears of the discret.
Each step you take, the more you wanna stay.
Like a nice pool or beach on a hot day, 902 is filled with secrets, rain, and fate.
All the love is unlimited but yet everything is to hate.
You wanna stay and watch the moon fill the night.
The crickets chirping, people outside the glass frame saying goodbye
but you’re still not ready to leave.
902 has consumed you it kills you to to take a step behind the door, you are bound to explore the world right where you stand.
Not ready for what’s lying ahead, nothing stops you from being drenched of fear.
Nothing I say is going to change…expect maybe it has.
Nothing seems is the same as it used to be
Echoes crowding this cell room, all the greys into blacks, all the whites in into toned greys
Nothing leaves this room, forever will I stay
Nothing will always be out of place
“See that wasn’t so hard”.
-Amaya Cowan
Poetry
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To have my poem be seen by someone on your caliber is truly and i mean truly a pleasure and an honor thank you for your opinion on my piece nothing makes me happier than hearing others give me their thoughts on my work. thank you 🙂
-Anon
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