A new car, a new computer, a new twinkle of a star in my eye from afar
and an old soul trying its hardest to remain whole.
To cleanse of all impurity is the sin of forgetting our infidelity
and sadly we must bare the aging tear a mare.
So saddle me up, strap yourselves in and remember there is always tomorrow mornin.
Actually.
There is always a today because we all eventually die.
The sunrise is out of reach no matter how hard we try.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 2:22 AM UTC
A new car, a new computer, a new twinkle of a star in my eye from afar
and an old soul trying its hardest to remain whole.
To cleanse of all impurity is the sin of forgetting our infidelity
and sadly we must bare the aging tear a mare.
So saddle me up, strap yourselves in and remember there is always tomorrow mornin.
Actually.
There is always a today because we all eventually die.
The sunrise is out of reach no matter how hard we try.
Request permission to use this poem