Boarded windows
the nails have got to go
rusted and old.
Once a warm heart
the air out there
turned it stone cold.
Trying to stay sincere
has only brought a sense of fear
from what I hear
the hoards are multiplying
do I allow my sense of self to die?
Re-share
force myself to care
to buy a larger tomb
filled of extra rooms
to store societies corrupt policies
or do I start over with fresh nails
isn’t it better to fail?
Thanks for reading
Temperamentally Tina
Temperamentally Tina 