It's terrible.

I can't write, but I'll try anyway.

With this paintbrush we call a pen

I'm going to paint a painting

Glass walls and see through mirrors

See through it all with no failure

I'm just alone, talking heads are all around me

Surrounded by them, sick whispers in my ear

How do I escape? In this ever closing box,

Oxygen levels lowering, I can't breathe anymore

Reviews

[Black Jess]

hmmm this is a very interesting piece !
Very deep, with meaningful words *-*
I love the idea of paiting a glass walls so we can see through it what you're enduring ! like you're writing what your feeling and at the same time picturing it as if your heart is made of glass so we can see through it ! very clever *-*
And yeah, it's terrible to be surrounded by poeple who pretend to be a know-it-all and they keep saying nonsenses that you hate, you prefer neither talking nor hearing what they're saying !
I love your poem
Great Job ^^