A sensation to which nothing can compare,
Rebel like behaviour lightens life up like a flare.
Little things which bring us solace during any crisis,
Little things that ruin us, these are all of our vices.
At the end a cigarette burns my finger tips,
And this is when my heart truly skips.
My escape is over, feels as though in a trice,
Discomforting to think we fell in love with our vice.
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 3:57 PM UTC
A sensation to which nothing can compare,
Rebel like behaviour lightens life up like a flare.
Little things which bring us solace during any crisis,
Little things that ruin us, these are all of our vices.
At the end a cigarette burns my finger tips,
And this is when my heart truly skips.
My escape is over, feels as though in a trice,
Discomforting to think we fell in love with our vice.
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