Walls

The invisible walls we make for ourselves.
They soon approach; ambassadors of  supreme nuisance.
I will stay here. Lingering like an odor that offends.
I am ever-present in my prison of solitude.
I've grown to like it;
Over time the familiarity has become my home.
This state suits me.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741