Poems from sgottemoller
They looked, at his face in disgust and walked away.He died, inside with each icy remark they made.They stole, what little joy he had...
If Time passes like the wind
is it really that Important?
If people die every day
do their lives even mean a thing?
Why are we even here...
He had dreams without Ambitions;
A house, but not a Home.
He was belonging to Nowhere,
All he could do was roam.
He roamed into houses and...