May 2019
I find it
Ironic
The weight of silence
Still presses
Heavily upon one
In a room full of noise
While whitewashed walls
Stand firm
Keepers of every octave
That weight
Is sadness
Ironic
The weight of silence
Still presses
Heavily upon one
In a room full of noise
While whitewashed walls
Stand firm
Keepers of every octave
That weight
Is sadness
Found it in my old notebook I've also been trying to post more frequently
