There's a girl sitting on the bank.
Should she jump?
There's a bank of your mind;
The precipice, wherein lies the thoughts best unseen, rather not thought about.
The unthinkable.
There's an abyss here
adhering to the sculpture of tears I'd rather hide.
A fall of lost work unappreciated and vain.
This would be be the last you would hear of me.
But I am not a warrior, or am I?
What does my survival deign?
This municipal pool of bedraggled thoughts
It's really wearing thin.
If I lose depth, will I lose myself?
I just can't tell anymore.
All in all,
This is too obvious.
Too simple.
There's only one solution.
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 7:26 AM UTC
When you let yourself slip away
succumbing to the gentle pushes.
A pool too deep to swim in
and it's not yours.
There is such a thing as too much hope
and we all know about high expectations.
So, forgive me for wanting to stand back up.
Forgive me for wanting to get out of this pool.
Forgive me for wanting to give up.
If I can't help myself, how can I help anyone else?
There is such a thing as having too much hope.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 5:59 PM UTC