As many as can be

neighbors

my neighbors surprised me
with all of those broken tales.
fake clouds always hover over my sea
so the absence of comfort is horrid nails.
It drives me crazy to a quiet steep
how i am loud in cries during sleep.
loneliness is only what comes nearer
to leaving me as sad as a broken mirror
that steals my reflections to laugh at it
to call me names that are bad and shit.

Ruddapoet

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