The pleasures of the damned ©
I can hear it
My own sound track
Can you hear yours?
Because the rest is silence.
Stagnant and uncomfortable
Its sits there waiting for you
To smack into it
And realise you don’t belong
Your voice seems too loud
As do your footsteps
When really,
You’ve barely been noticed.
Who does belong?
The people who fit?
I didn’t realise there was a mould
Some forget that we are not mouldable
Yet your eyes see it
People being pushed out
Of their curious worlds
Into the silence
The pleasures of the damned.
© Copyright of Emily
My own sound track
Can you hear yours?
Because the rest is silence.
Stagnant and uncomfortable
Its sits there waiting for you
To smack into it
And realise you don’t belong
Your voice seems too loud
As do your footsteps
When really,
You’ve barely been noticed.
Who does belong?
The people who fit?
I didn’t realise there was a mould
Some forget that we are not mouldable
Yet your eyes see it
People being pushed out
Of their curious worlds
Into the silence
The pleasures of the damned.
© Copyright of Emily