Oct 2014
Snail trails of a cloud, bleeding life into a dying sky,
As feet drum out a rhythm for wounded thoughts to dance to:
pirouetting voices shout to keep a smile on that face,
And anxiety tripping in a failed twirl, trampled by pointed toes of glee.
As feet drum out a rhythm for wounded thoughts to dance to:
pirouetting voices shout to keep a smile on that face,
And anxiety tripping in a failed twirl, trampled by pointed toes of glee.
This makes very little sense, I don't really know what I'm trying to achieve here. Oh well.
