Round and round, my head is exhausted
and I'm tired of crawling
towards a heroic imagination
suddenly, I fear changing
Autumn has never seemed so strange.
But songs, they keep replaying
the same words and melodies, escapism
is not too far-
though I have to ask, what is it that I'm escaping?
Some days, I forget
the world goes on beyond the shores of my own
head. And the sandcastles are fragile,
easily washed away in a single wave,
until I stand alone.
Without a home, so I wander
most days, I end up in the woods
the chit chatter is constant, here
I can be free. From all the noise,
silence makes for me.
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
Round and round, my head is exhausted
and I'm tired of crawling
towards a heroic imagination
suddenly, I fear changing
Autumn has never seemed so strange.
But songs, they keep replaying
the same words and melodies, escapism
is not too far-
though I have to ask, what is it that I'm escaping?
Some days, I forget
the world goes on beyond the shores of my own
head. And the sandcastles are fragile,
easily washed away in a single wave,
until I stand alone.
Without a home, so I wander
most days, I end up in the woods
the chit chatter is constant, here
I can be free. From all the noise,
silence makes for me.
