The stars don’t define my life,
But the specs of mould on the ceiling,
I study them carefully at night,
Reading them in true light,
A sickly soul they’re revealing.
A wondering eye sees all,
And repulsion overwhelms it so
Much that one gives out a hopeless sigh.
The ceiling is too high,
To wipe Aries and Leo.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 7:33 AM UTC
The stars don’t define my life,
But the specs of mould on the ceiling,
I study them carefully at night,
Reading them in true light,
A sickly soul they’re revealing.
A wondering eye sees all,
And repulsion overwhelms it so
Much that one gives out a hopeless sigh.
The ceiling is too high,
To wipe Aries and Leo.
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