The roses are right beneath me, yet the sharp weeds behind seem to find a way to sweep me under
suddenly, and with hardly any warning.
How can I see the paved road ahead when the spot I’m standing on can barely hold my weight
shaking and trembling I stand on one foot.
They say ”stop looking down and see your direction”, but the deep dark hole underneath has a possessive, obsessive spirit that haunts my present
what a funny word it is, present.
it can never be returned, it can never be thrown away, only accepted either with grace or with bitterness.
Jan 4, 2020
Jan 4, 2020 at 5:53 PM UTC
The roses are right beneath me, yet the sharp weeds behind seem to find a way to sweep me under
suddenly, and with hardly any warning.
How can I see the paved road ahead when the spot I’m standing on can barely hold my weight
shaking and trembling I stand on one foot.
They say ”stop looking down and see your direction”, but the deep dark hole underneath has a possessive, obsessive spirit that haunts my present
what a funny word it is, present.
it can never be returned, it can never be thrown away, only accepted either with grace or with bitterness.