Echo.

An echo’s memo,
lamenting perpetually…
the redundancy.
A memory’s voice,
screaming at me silently…
the insanity.
Forever hanging,
by the thin threads of old strings…
the anxiety.
…these things are throttling me.

5 thoughts on “Echo.

  1. tedgiffin says:

    Great poem!! Hey, out of curiosity which Artist did that, looks Baroque.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. kat says:

    i totally get this feeling. great poem.

    Liked by 1 person

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