Oh life! What do you have to give,
To a poor soul like mine.
Nothing spare a bag of dreams,
That have neither an end nor any means.
And why do you take
The little I have so lovingly held
The peace of mind oh so dear
Now I am scared to look beyond
For what knows might be roobed of me.
The costume so full of scars
They will hold for seven lifes
Yet as I stand broken today
I realize my time is not done away.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.07 seconds at 7:30pm on Nov 21, 2024 via server WEBX1.