We were born with wings
But they are tattered like old photographs with blurred faces
And faded like curtains that brave the fierce sun.
But our eyes are still alive
And we never know the sun.
You say we whisper
But if we were brighter you'd say we shout.
You say we are ugly
Then wonder why we flock to the light.
You are the same as us but worse
You choose to become the things you fear
You chase after a light that only you can see
And it takes so much longer to **** you
So much longer for you to realize that you burn.
Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 5:56 PM UTC
We were born with wings
But they are tattered like old photographs with blurred faces
And faded like curtains that brave the fierce sun.
But our eyes are still alive
And we never know the sun.
You say we whisper
But if we were brighter you'd say we shout.
You say we are ugly
Then wonder why we flock to the light.
You are the same as us but worse
You choose to become the things you fear
You chase after a light that only you can see
And it takes so much longer to **** you
So much longer for you to realize that you burn.