Faces that aren’t faces
Hollow people
They walk the same route
Every day
The birds
The same shrill calls
The beasts
Wander the same path
through the undergrowth
A mist surrounds this place
I’ve walked out of it
A thousand times
Only to be welcomed back
By lifeless smiles
Devoid of emotion
Some days
I find myself
Walking the same route
Drifting, comforming
With this village
Emptiness echoes
Throughout my hollowing mind
I smile
Poetry and Writings - A Mind 