The Leak In My Roof
A crappy house and a hopeful woman
As it rains, there are drops
Pouring from my roof
Droplets of rain go bloop
Each one taps the buckets
And splashes on my skin
I canβt help but wonder
The ceasing of this moment
Where I can say this is the end
The disappointment on my face
Screams an expression of disgrace
Sometimes this place looks like a waste
Squirrels and bats wander the attic like itβs their cave
And pieces of the house break apart each day
My sighs plead to just be okay
But the feeling of being such seems astray
Drip, drip, drop
The sounds of a poorly built house
Everything is caving in
But still, I am content
If I lost hope, Iβd lose my strength within
About the Creator
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Last Days
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own. It was me, but there was something warped, and that was not me. I narrow my eyes and peer into the narrowing eyes of my deformed reflection. I was off, and while I could see it in my reflection, no one else could see it. At least no one acknowledges it. Getting out of bed has become a chore. A chore I hate. After fifteen to twenty minutes of lying awake, staring at the ceiling and wishing I hadn't woken up, I finally shift to the side of the bed, legs dangling down the four foot high drop to the floor.
By Colt Henderson4 days ago in Horror
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