I used to write just to read on and on
In a listing manner, with a scrolling eye
But no more do I
Write in such a manner as this
There’s no desire to be found
As those days have long since passed me by
And now I only write for myself, the ID
As compared to the length which these pages provide
And I stop flowing waters
Dead in their tracks, without so much as a whisper
Because I’m no longer afraid to speak
Or to be seen here within these imperfect lines
May 20, 2019
May 20, 2019 at 9:50 AM UTC
I used to write just to read on and on
In a listing manner, with a scrolling eye
But no more do I
Write in such a manner as this
There’s no desire to be found
As those days have long since passed me by
And now I only write for myself, the ID
As compared to the length which these pages provide
And I stop flowing waters
Dead in their tracks, without so much as a whisper
Because I’m no longer afraid to speak
Or to be seen here within these imperfect lines
