We chase misprinted lies
We face the path of time
And yet I fight
This battle all alone
No one to cry to
No place to call home
My gift of self is *****
My privacy is raked
And yet I find
Repenting in my head
If I can't be my own
I'd feel better dead
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
We chase misprinted lies
We face the path of time
And yet I fight
This battle all alone
No one to cry to
No place to call home
My gift of self is *****
My privacy is raked
And yet I find
Repenting in my head
If I can't be my own
I'd feel better dead
AiC
