Posted: June 3, 2014 by hannahmarie64 in HannahW

The smell of silence is so old;
it smells of withered hearts and empty souls
floating about, reckless and alone
waiting for a loved one to call them home

Their dreary eyes  search for hope,
and their hearts reach out to those who mope
they’ll seek, they’ll cry, they’ll call out for help
they’re stuck in a labyrinth, never to get out


Comments are closed.