Age of Despair

Do you like me underneath the filter?
Or when my self-esteem is low, that I’m breaking every mirror?
Is my age something you consider?
Do you know it makes me bitter?

Do you know I am a sinner?
Or my life is growing thinner?
How I’m like an over-thinker?
And you got me by the finger?

© Delia Ross. 2021 / @poeeternal

Published by PoeEternal

I'm gone. Maybe it's like I never existed at all.

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