To no fault of my own, the little I own
To the words that ask me to conform.
I feel so alone—in the deep chasms of a petrified soul.
An open door, shut by a closed mind to make a move.
Unwillingness of that to do.
Oh what a world to live in.
Searching, always seeking; in the depths be,
Of a tempestuous sea. I still can’t swim.
So comes that sinking feeling again. I’m sinking in
Deepest thought to the very END. My always sinking
HEAD. Especially when pride gave you a big head.
Jul 29, 2022
Jul 29, 2022 at 4:31 PM UTC
To no fault of my own, the little I own
To the words that ask me to conform.
I feel so alone—in the deep chasms of a petrified soul.
An open door, shut by a closed mind to make a move.
Unwillingness of that to do.
Oh what a world to live in.
Searching, always seeking; in the depths be,
Of a tempestuous sea. I still can’t swim.
So comes that sinking feeling again. I’m sinking in
Deepest thought to the very END. My always sinking
HEAD. Especially when pride gave you a big head.
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