My pen touches paper with flicks and swirls of my hand
Words written from my heart of which my head can understand
It's my way of talking freely ,Something i find so hard to do
Iv'e spent so long quite in my thoughts while committing social doom
Now i have no one left who will listen to the things i want to say
So i write these words in the hope that somebody may read it all some day
These pages are my playground where my hands write how i feel
There is no control of my emotions for all your eys will see is real
So please read these words with an open mind and kindness in your heart
For kept inside are my true feelings and the dreams i call my art
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 1:22 AM UTC
My pen touches paper with flicks and swirls of my hand
Words written from my heart of which my head can understand
It's my way of talking freely ,Something i find so hard to do
Iv'e spent so long quite in my thoughts while committing social doom
Now i have no one left who will listen to the things i want to say
So i write these words in the hope that somebody may read it all some day
These pages are my playground where my hands write how i feel
There is no control of my emotions for all your eys will see is real
So please read these words with an open mind and kindness in your heart
For kept inside are my true feelings and the dreams i call my art
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