Short Poem #7

Four walls know more than any friend, They’ve watched me break, they never mend. I speak aloud — the void replies, With silence draped in heavy sighs. The mirror’s stranger wears my face, But something’s gone — it left no trace. I search for warmth, for human touch, But nothing ever seems enough. The nights are long, the days are gray, And hope grows weaker every day. It’s lonely here inside my head — A tomb where dreams and light have fled.