Screaming At CobwebsMature

When we're praying to be ill,

To escape our perfect hell.

When we're going to extremes

To avoid the ringing bell.

That's when you should know,

That something's very wrong.

We've been broken down;

Now none of us are strong.

But we're made to keep on pacing,

The same old dusty halls.

Unheard we'll keep on screaming

At the cobwebs on the walls.

The End

9 comments about this poem Feed