A ghost without a home...
I whisper in the silence
craving for a place to stay
unworthy not even for a pence..
can't even beat 20cents worth of shining on a tray...
Soft like a piece of cotton wool...
then sucked and placed in a vacuum...
hollow.
used to be valued.
used to be overwhelmed.
but the feeling's gone.
nothing but a waste of space.
everyone passes by and ignores me.
i'm just a ghost without a home.
written by,
aNs,
6 Oct 2011.
while listening to Gray Catbird by Dan Gibson.
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