Blah
My throat is hoarse and silent with pain,
The wind chimes reckon I am late again.
Yet I laugh away my worries like a clown
Just to make way for more to weigh me down.
They line my hands and wrinkle my face.
These new doubts consume my days.
I imagine I can decide without my heart
But its rhythm pierces like a poison dart.
The wind chimes reckon I am late again.
Yet I laugh away my worries like a clown
Just to make way for more to weigh me down.
They line my hands and wrinkle my face.
These new doubts consume my days.
I imagine I can decide without my heart
But its rhythm pierces like a poison dart.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home