Learn more about other poetry terms

Emptiness and sorrow, They all say it will get better tomorrow, Yet I am stuck in the mistakes of my past, While everyone around me is moving by fast, Standstill, standstill, My body turns into a landfill,
The Mirror  Shoots it's rainbow daggers throughout the hall.  It is three in the afternoon  And I am faced  With the mirror.  It blocks the path. Knowing  Taunting with my own face
Dust drifts down, and for a moment, it resembles the dance of white snow. Caused by a large boom, the dust falls and crashes into the top of houses, trees, and people. Some dust lingers in the air and shrouds everything in sight.
Subscribe to degredation