*'It is see through, feels like velvet
keep falling through my fingers...
Ghostly figures and I still see the,
the illusion of the show. It is not
real, it never was, always was a
fantasy. It keeps dripping from my
skin, that illusion of life we are in.'*
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 3:35 PM UTC
*'It is see through, feels like velvet
keep falling through my fingers...
Ghostly figures and I still see the,
the illusion of the show. It is not
real, it never was, always was a
fantasy. It keeps dripping from my
skin, that illusion of life we are in.'*
Request permission to use this poem