Caught up inside
a storm,
I whispered softly
into the wind,
"Don't let the
lightening strike
me like it has with
all my friends."
The firstfruits of our
freedom trickled
down from
the oppressor.
I want, so badly,
to make it right,
but I just can't
in this kind of
weather.
Sep 13, 2020
Sep 13, 2020 at 10:44 PM UTC
Caught up inside
a storm,
I whispered softly
into the wind,
"Don't let the
lightening strike
me like it has with
all my friends."
The firstfruits of our
freedom trickled
down from
the oppressor.
I want, so badly,
to make it right,
but I just can't
in this kind of
weather.
Diary of an addict
in a dying world
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