Dark Poetry

Broken Carousel



I’m tired of this path, of where it leads
Tired of breaking into hives, tearing at the seams.
Wearing masks, afraid that it’ll somehow crack –
I’m tired of this hypocrisy, of needing to cover all my tracks.

The weight of the day grows with the change of time
Increasing the pressure, making me lose my mind.
Games people play aren’t one meant for me
So why do I find myself entangled in this web repeatedly?


You ask for too much, that’s the reason why
In this loop you’ll be stuck, until the day you die.


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