Quiet they sayShush they sayHide it this wayNo, not that wayThis wayLike thisSo nobody…
Take me back to when I was 4,When my mother used to braid my hair,and reward my every good deed…
You were once
my hopeful future.
Now just
a subject of my hopeless poem.
Eclipsed by darknessAlone in the wildernessHeart disintegrated to nothingness…