There’s something wrong with the world,
Empty spaces that can never be filled
By love or prosperity,
By the stolen clichés that we build
The nights are no different to days,
We’re always in darkness’ cruel haze.
That love that we owned,
Is in the unknown
For a world that we constantly raze.
The only tears shed fall for hours,
The remembrance of now fallen towers.
We’ll do what it takes,
No matter the stakes
To have something that was never ours.
A soft sigh of sadness is useless to heave,
Savour the sound of a peaceful eve.
One day it’ll be gone
And we’d wish we were wrong-
And that it was all make believe.
© Copyright 2016 Ashleigh Butcher. All rights reserved.