The sun sinks to bring in the dark So tell me Why is it so wrong for me to sink, To bring in the dark? Sometimes the sky cries for no reason But when I do the same, "I'm depressed" Some stars explode, Just to be **reborn again
In the vast corners of the room was a telephone that read broken. Poets are really deep because they can turn nothing into something. To me, the telephone meant that us as our generation have broken communication. We get rid of our problems over text like ending a relationship or quitting a job.
I am stuck in 50 shades of gray Nothing ****** But depressing Like a bird who nestles in a tree A bear who hibernates A lion trapped in a cage I find comfort in the gray This is now my home