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My little box of empty dreams is filling up too fast The more I put away for later the less this feeling lasts My story is but naught at all from the world so swift I collapse into the fall searching for that upper-lift I wish I knew the color-scheme for a tale of gold You think the answer wouldn’t be quite so very bold My eye will twitch as I swallow down the pills that stifle me I don’t make a sound but I’ve yet to be let free
0
Jul 28, 2011
Jul 28, 2011 at 7:45 AM UTC
Trapped in a Rhyme
My little box of empty dreams is filling up too fast The more I put away for later the less this feeling lasts My story is but naught at all from the world so swift I collapse into the fall searching for that upper-lift I wish I knew the color-scheme for a tale of gold You think the answer wouldn’t be quite so very bold My eye will twitch as I swallow down the pills that stifle me I don’t make a sound but I’ve yet to be let free
lestatmalfoy
Written by
American
Jul 28, 2011
Jul 28, 2011 at 7:45 AM UTC
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