... ... - - - ... ...
No wonder I was stock into same place
Same things that was already pass through,
Stays at one thought that hard to replace
That makes things be tough and rough.
It is like an illness that is never ending
Slowly but surely crawling deeply,
Like a plague that moves too fast spreading
That ruins the soul too rapidly.
Living nothing but aching pain
Causing oneself slowly dying,
Although it never felt in vein
It is still causing rapid panting.
An aching breathless memories lingers
A never ending loss of hope,
A contagious cycle of pain that flingers
That fades away light to grope.
... ... - - - ... ... ...
Jr.
No comments:
Post a Comment