Thoughtless and blankness are my thoughts,
many words remained unsaid and they only gather dust.
My throat itches with uncertainty and I could only
cough syllables after syllables of falsity--
I want to tell the world many things, I want
to describe the beauty I see when I look up,
that the clouds do in fact conjure up images
and bird do move in such graceful free manner.
"what are you doing?"
" nothing---"
' I was trying to count the clouds, they look wonderful don't they?'
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 7:53 AM UTC
Thoughtless and blankness are my thoughts,
many words remained unsaid and they only gather dust.
My throat itches with uncertainty and I could only
cough syllables after syllables of falsity--
I want to tell the world many things, I want
to describe the beauty I see when I look up,
that the clouds do in fact conjure up images
and bird do move in such graceful free manner.
"what are you doing?"
" nothing---"
' I was trying to count the clouds, they look wonderful don't they?'
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