You know, Sometimes I get blown away by the shit that I write - where does it all come from ! Inside this mind there is a fountain Of thoughts and words rising deep from a mountain There is no off switch that I am aware Even when I lay before you striped and bare Often exhaustion finds me sleeping Yet the rain of my slumber is this minds grieving Much more I write there is no end Till all is cleansed no sensitivity to defend Am I a simple ghost writer of a soul lost My minds sanity shall bare such cost For emotions spill forth without control Draining essence till I resemble that very soul That is my love mourned ........ Who are you Why are you What of me do you want For I have little to offer But sorrows ........
Posted on: Tue, 18 Nov 2014 21:05:44 +0000
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