Poems from ecantrell
Exhaustion plays its tricks on meWhen the night has met its closeWith each tick my clock laughs at meTaunting all my woes Late hours bring...
To the victor go the spoils,or so the stories say.But what exactly are these spoils?Or…..trophies – if I may. They are the rotting bones of...
When you see meYou see a loner-Unafraid and uncaring.The shadows aren't showing. When you look in my eyesYou find only blankness.Yet you...
Pretenses are a poisonSociety refuses to forsakeThey are walls built with bricks of little liesExpose just one and the wall will break And...