Itching. by Frail-Beauty - A Poem from Tumblr


 * There is a chatter from the floorboards
 * Chatter! Chatter! Not a creek,
 * It is the chant of the forsaken souls
 * Sorrow fills their voices weak


 * Demons rest within each one of us
 * Responsible for all the good that’s there
 * The peace and kindness fuel our violence
 * For they are far too much to bear


 * We’ll stand together in this auditorium
 * Each shields their sins from other’s eyes
 * Wanting to be something more than rotten
 * Our truths are stained with pitch black lies


 * But it’s okay to tell a fib right here
 * Where both are in the same old spot
 * Itching pores and trying to remember
 * The chant we’d only just forgot


 * It held the answer to our questions
 * Because the dead always know best
 * So we leave with our heads hanging
 * We too will give up on the quest.