When I get home its late at night. Im black and bloody from my life. I havent time to clean my hands, Cuts will only sting me through my dreams. Its well past midnight as I lie In a semi-conscious state. I dream of people fighting me Without any reason I can see. In the morning I awake. My arms, my legs, my body aches. The sky outside is wet and grey. So begins another weary day. So begins another weary day. After eating I go out. People passing by me shout. I cant stand this agony. Why dont they talk to me? In the park I have to rest. I lie down and I do my best. The rain is falling on my face. I wish I could sink without a trace. --Grey Day by Mike Barson
Posted on: Thu, 16 Oct 2014 05:01:05 +0000
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