Breaking

By themasterhunter

A dangerous game it is,
We play

A broken world of Gods
We say

How nice the way this rhymes,
Decay

How fun it is to write,
Right?

We fix our problems here,
Insight

We end our suffering
Troubling

We bury the dead in the garden
Darken

And pretend we are living nicely
Psyche

We close the curtains,
Uncertain

And live silently
Tiredly

Content in a box
Drops

And later they find us
Cuts

Colder than dead
Red

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2020 themasterhunter
Published on Sunday, March 29, 2020.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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