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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Submitted: February 14, 2018

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Submitted: February 14, 2018



It’s been a long time

Since I could make a decent rhyme

That isn’t made of tears

Poured out over the years

Used to be a time when it was all smiles

Light hearts and kind faces for miles

Then something took ahold of me

Now bitterness is all you see

An empty sack of flesh

The scars no longer fresh

Eyes that look weathered and worn

A beatless chest from where the heart was torn

Lacking in passion that I once had

No longer are there methods for the mad

Just empty words as empty as a hole

In the heart of the chest of the soul


Perhaps it was attention

The prescriptions

The addictions

The loss of appetite for happiness sunk in

The nagging need for fame

A beast so untame

That it takes what you once believed

Showing a world you could never conceive




I can’t stand that color.

It’s the prominent feeling inside of my heart

It’s the color of the sky in my mind

Swirls of color dissipate and evaporate

Under the grey sun

In the grey sky

Of a grey day

In a grey week

In a grey life.


This is the cost of being an artist

Starving, ceaselessly trying to find

A reason to show something to the world

Billions of people in the world

And you’re stuck with an audience of one

Until that’s taken from you too.


© Copyright 2019 Skylar Kristofer. All rights reserved.

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