Were vagabonds of the streets! each one a collection of memories, carried like a hearse on our shoulders. Waiting to be buried in shallow graves.
Did you read every epilogue of sadness that collected on so many brows... Each a sentence of our life deleted by life's eroding moments.
We could hold life in single use bags. Never reused but fading at the handles of life's weight. We collect like refuse in the corners of close shutters, static.
Did you read every epilogue of sadness that collected on so many brows... Each a sentence of our lives deleted by life's eroding moments.
Time is chains on the pressures of every moment, every step reminds us of all the mistakes that brought us here.. Life is smothering us as we sleep alone..