There are a bunch of things that I can’t forget to remember; remember?—the concussions; blow after blow…straight to the head

The shots rang through my mind as my eyes turned red

Blood shots, that’s what it’s called

When they fall,

You know the tears that fall on deaf ears

Because after all-this time you’ve been

In the wild since a child

“If a tree falls in the woods and nobody hears it—did it fall?” —-

The saying is something similar,

Yet different

—-I can’t remember, to think

So distinct; this life

I’m living in a shell

Like a well with hope to be full of memory

And instead

It be full

—of ink from,


Published by Alpha’s Poetry notes

I am what is considered to be a starving artist; support my vision, my dream to be free with a like and/or comment. #Sharedemo

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