The Lows

Posted byPoeEternalPosted infreestyle, micropoetry, PoeEternal, poetry, rhyme, WritingTags:, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I’m sick of concrete ceiling skies
His tireless little alibis
The lows that come when I need to rise
The feeling that I’m out of tries

I’m wanting just a bit more luck
And wouldn’t hurt to have a buck
But mostly never give a fuck
Depression hit me like a truck

© Delia Ross. 2020

I’m moody and withdrawn. Therefore, I’ve been neglecting your blogs and friendships (and my life), I’m sorry.

If you dig my writing, you can support me on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/poeeternal

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Published by PoeEternal

I'm gone. Maybe it's like I never existed at all.

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