High Walls and Open Spaces

This is for the forgotten and bloody, yet unbroken.

We keep our hands up straight, unstained

Under this skin, we find that conflict of nonexistence

Treading an imaginary path of notes sustained.

 We will never get tired of searching

of things we cannot have

When pain takes a whole different meaning

as something we can’t live without.

We feel alive with each time our hearts broke

and letting us die as our minds choke

in silence brought by the chills of open doors

curling the wisps of smoke with unfair scores.

Then everyone around that sees couldn’t believe

leading to be ridiculed for everyone to see

the pitiful image of a coward’s weep

as the tears fall beside the people’s spits.

About Placido Penitente

I am what I write and I write to live. I am an Epiphany. A part of my consciousness travels endlessly around the universe...and inside the halls of your mind. Nothing personal. A part-time sociopath. Male. Republic of the Philippines. College student. Literature Major. View all posts by Placido Penitente

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