Their lives so shallow,
so fucking meaningless,
their only worth derived from
grinding others’ hopes and dreams
into dust they snort for their amusement.
Pathetic, worthless waste of space,
echoing through my head until my
reflection screams it the way
I wish I could spew it in
their smarmy faces, but
even at my worst, I’m
better than them.
Hi, I'm Elle. I'm based in Auckland, New Zealand. I'm a moderator at Writing.com, the mother of two gifted children, the wife of a Twitch gaming streamer and the Queen of Unfinished Projects. I've been reading since I was 4 years old, writing poems (badly) since 1994, blogging since 2001 and I started studying photography in 2010. This blog will contain poems, short stories, photos, book reviews and my thoughts on a variety of topics. Hope you enjoy it.
View all posts by Elle
