Thick wood,
Hazy eyes,
Joints to move,
Hope that dies.
Never moving without a master,
Never talking without a voice,
Nothing,but wood and plaster,
Only making a silent noise.
Thoughts remain silent heard,
Tears remain never shed,
Cannot fly like a bird,
They are only known as dead.
Glassy hues,
Porcelain white,
Never abused,
Never no flight.
Thick Wood,Hazy Eyes.
This is a poem I wrote back when I was ten,it is not very good and needs a bit of touch up,but I thought I'd put it up.Anyway-What this is about is obvious.Did you like this poem? Write one of your own!
