Everything i write
is about flowers and death
I think this is a sign
I want to be free
I can't take this boxed in life
I want to run
Any chance i get
Fourty hours work in a hole
Is not who i am
I want to be in the wind
Flowers bloom with color
Their pedals flow through the breeze
Moving through and growing more life
I cannot have such a life
Therefore i want to run
But run to where?
The only solution i ever find
Is death
Death is the only freedom i know
But maybe I'll live
For the promise
That after this hell
We'll all be free
More then we can ever know
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 1:19 AM UTC
Everything i write
is about flowers and death
I think this is a sign
I want to be free
I can't take this boxed in life
I want to run
Any chance i get
Fourty hours work in a hole
Is not who i am
I want to be in the wind
Flowers bloom with color
Their pedals flow through the breeze
Moving through and growing more life
I cannot have such a life
Therefore i want to run
But run to where?
The only solution i ever find
Is death
Death is the only freedom i know
But maybe I'll live
For the promise
That after this hell
We'll all be free
More then we can ever know
I want to be a hippie peace loving rv driving wonderer. But it's harder then it seems in life. Life just brings me down all too often.
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