Then she met the sun rising above the sky superior to its servants, for 'tis the bright light giving shelter to trees and flowers — her morning is as rough as the dried sunflowers.
She ne'er-do-well at nights that seem to haunt her every time the moon arises from below — the moon whom she hates when it strikes at six o'clock and the sun sets at five o'clock, she never gets the time to smile.
Tomorrow with her is never home. A night with her could be considered as the curse. From o'er the horizon, she looks up above, and scream, “Even songs I love I could not hear!” Her little hymn and tones turned into lulla-byes— a lullaby to good-bye.
“Tis the time to go home", she said, but what if night ne'er sets down and tomorrows turned ashes and good-byes?
When will she go home?
I just turned 20 a few days ago and this piece was made months ago haha. Hope you'll have a good day.
Through empty hallways and the wide corridor of life days, like doors, are unopened for fears of welcoming strife reluctantly, we refuse to look into a new day, like a locked room known only by unlatching a hook to find the futures not so gloom Yet running to the day before We drop ‘Today’, like a lost key that unlocks the day behind that door where ‘Tomorrow’, could set us free.
How to dress well (and that I'd rather dress comfortably.) How to hide the laces in my shoes. That it's apparently "learnt". How to walk with a limp, when to walk away.
How to look mean while avoiding eye contact. Where to find the best coffee. How to write a bad sonnet. How to kiss the right way. Where to find the wrong girls.
How to sing sad songs. How to roll a decent joint. How easily a wasted day can become a wasted life. How to hold my liquor, when to hold my tongue, not to hold my breath.
When enough is enough. When enough is too much. When to hold the door open. How to set a deadline with no intention of adhering to it. How to feel alone in a packed out club (and where to find the smoking bit).
That time heals nothing but memories fade. How long a piece of string is. That no matter how bad a day you're having, tomorrow can always be worse.
Life is not fair, friend when I am here and you are not when you were ensnared by addiction and desires of flesh a soul left here to rot
The existing situation is not so great born of our differences where we did not gain a scar knowing love did not spare us pain moving us forward into unknown embrace and only served to make us who we are.