Why must the wind,
blow so cold?
Why must the day,
always grow old?
Why must my friends,
ditch dunk and leave me?
Why must my fears,
try and try to consume the?
Why must music,
be my only escape?
why must my looks,
be recorded on tape?
Why can't I leave,
this place you all call "Home"?
Why can't I disapear,
the feelings deep, to the bone.
I want to be gone,
but something always fights.
I want to be there, not here,
but my mind wont take flight.
So i sing,
i draw,
i write these simple poems,
and put up with this foul place,
you all call "Home"
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 12:36 AM UTC
Why must the wind,
blow so cold?
Why must the day,
always grow old?
Why must my friends,
ditch dunk and leave me?
Why must my fears,
try and try to consume the?
Why must music,
be my only escape?
why must my looks,
be recorded on tape?
Why can't I leave,
this place you all call "Home"?
Why can't I disapear,
the feelings deep, to the bone.
I want to be gone,
but something always fights.
I want to be there, not here,
but my mind wont take flight.
So i sing,
i draw,
i write these simple poems,
and put up with this foul place,
you all call "Home"
