My thoughts are increasingly incomplete
I feel so inefficient
I’m losing my technique
My concentration’s distant, and,
My vision’s obsolete
It’s like my whole existence
Is forbidden to succeed
I think I am becoming less unique..
What might be still, is hidden
It glistens down beneath
Passionately vivid,
Driven, and so free
In time, it will have risen, from
This prison of defeat.
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 0.09 seconds at 4:15pm on Dec 25, 2024 via server WEBX2.