White Walls

The stale white walls are caving

an emptiness 

chilling to the skin


Foggy vision, spinning into nauciousness

eating my thoughts

eating nothing


Plastered bright smiles

here to make things                      'better'


Pale face, wearing a grin

 trying to hold it in

 tight skin, clinging


White walls are caving


I run

anywhere but here

Destination so near, yet never to appear

leading behind

frustration so great


the more I struggle the more you sink


letting go

caving in





I rise





This poem is about: 
Our world


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