Blood on my alarm clock You felt so real I'm awake too early I've got time to **** I close my eyes But can't fall back asleep Now you're only with me In every bad dream
The Harshest Critic you could ever meet is yourself when I have money I always don't have enough if I'm lonely it's my fault I haven't lived enough to know lust from love I always critique myself harshly because I know my potential is in the stars.
But maybe I'm too ******* myself, well what would you want a soft man's mental health?! learn to hide your feelings and release them onto the page! I did that brain, now the more I write sometimes the worse I feel and the less I heal.
but you need me to put this into perspective because you're opinion on what I do isn't subjective you're not aggressive enough you'll fall to the ground like Dust
SHUT UP! I CAN'T TAKE YOU ANYMORE! I TRY NOT TO OVERTHINK EVERYTHING BUT YOU ******* ME FASTER THAN A 20 DOLLAR WXORE!
I woke up, Early in the morning, Exhausted, And the one thing, In my mind, Was poetry, Because, I couldn't wait, To express the feelings, Erupting inside, Of me.
A short expression... First time writing like this...
Water trickles over a dried up brook Into a stream of boiling water down into the deep Where this goes we may never know It’s the road we call “less traveled” But what about those souls that have to burn their feet? What about the children who can’t keep up to the beat? Not only do lost souls find themselves falling further into the deep The light on the other end is getting harder to see And, at one point they had a chance to turn back But chose the path “less traveled” to see what was in the black Soon they become weary and try to rest But, the boiling water will not let them stop They must keep moving to the sounds of the drums Some fall off into the water, boiling away into nothing And, some, some make it to the end of the brook To meet the man to take them across the River Styx This is where the journey ends for those souls who refused redemption