#crumble - Hello Poetry

#crumble

These days I speak in chalk, they hear in cheese, my meanings crumble on the breeze. I wake in strange places, though nothing's moved, the same old room, but not improved. The mirror knows me, but not my name this quiet slipping, is this a game? My voice returns from walls misheard, each echo bends a faithful word. I reach for sense, it turns to dust, a language fractured by mistrust. Familiar hands feel oddly worn, like gloves I’ve kept since I was born. The clock still ticks, but out of phase, it counts in strange, uncharted ways. And time, once firm beneath my feet, now loops itself in soft defeat. I walk, yet never quite arrive am I the ghost, or still alive? If I am chalk, then let me fade, in quiet lines my truth once made. And if they feast on cheese alone, then let me learn to stand unknown.

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Apr 10

Apr 10, 2026 at 2:14 AM UTC

Chalk and Cheese

These days I speak in chalk, they hear in cheese, my meanings crumble on the breeze. I wake in strange places, though nothing's moved, the same old room, but not improved. The mirror knows me, but not my name this quiet slipping, is this a game? My voice returns from walls misheard, each echo bends a faithful word. I reach for sense, it turns to dust, a language fractured by mistrust. Familiar hands feel oddly worn, like gloves I’ve kept since I was born. The clock still ticks, but out of phase, it counts in strange, uncharted ways. And time, once firm beneath my feet, now loops itself in soft defeat. I walk, yet never quite arrive am I the ghost, or still alive? If I am chalk, then let me fade, in quiet lines my truth once made. And if they feast on cheese alone, then let me learn to stand unknown.

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sometimes fast other times slow usually rough sometimes soft cracking-breaking-falling many think not time speaks for itself what cookie is next?

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Feb 11

Feb 11, 2026 at 6:00 PM UTC

how the Cookie Crumbles

sometimes fast other times slow usually rough sometimes soft cracking-breaking-falling many think not time speaks for itself what cookie is next?

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call me, find me in the shadows text me, align the stars manually if you wanted to, would you? if you came to me i would crumble in your arms cry all of these tears that i’ve collected wonder how we got so far

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Dec 11, 2025

Dec 11, 2025 at 10:16 AM UTC

call me, find me in the shadows text me, align the stars manually if you wanted to, would you? if you came to me i would crumble in your arms cry all of these tears that i’ve collected wonder how we got so far

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my tears they fall until i crumble. like that leaf i picked up in the forest and it just crumbled in my hands. i crumble like that leaf.

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Aug 28, 2025

Aug 28, 2025 at 11:06 PM UTC

tears (sequel to fall apart)

my tears they fall until i crumble. like that leaf i picked up in the forest and it just crumbled in my hands. i crumble like that leaf.

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The strongest people are often the quietest, Their shoulders broad enough to bear the weight of the world. They listen when others crumble, Piecing together broken hearts with steady hands. Their words soothe, Their presence steadies, And their silence feels like a refuge. But when their own walls begin to crack, When the weight they carry grows too heavy, Their voices falter. Soft cries for help, Eclipsed by the noise of lives they once held together. Their pain fades into the background, A whisper swallowed by the chaos of others. They are seen as unshakable, An unyielding constant in a storm. But even the tallest trees sway, Even the strongest pillars crack under strain. Still, they stand, Hoping someone will notice the way they lean, Hoping someone will hear the faint echoes of their ache. But most days, Their own needs dissolve into the shadows, Invisible in the light they give to others. And in the stillness of their loneliness, They wonder if anyone will ever listen The way they have listened all along.

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Feb 12, 2025

Feb 12, 2025 at 10:21 PM UTC

Secretly_Sad_Inside

The Silence They Carry

The strongest people are often the quietest, Their shoulders broad enough to bear the weight of the world. They listen when others crumble, Piecing together broken hearts with steady hands. Their words soothe, Their presence steadies, And their silence feels like a refuge. But when their own walls begin to crack, When the weight they carry grows too heavy, Their voices falter. Soft cries for help, Eclipsed by the noise of lives they once held together. Their pain fades into the background, A whisper swallowed by the chaos of others. They are seen as unshakable, An unyielding constant in a storm. But even the tallest trees sway, Even the strongest pillars crack under strain. Still, they stand, Hoping someone will notice the way they lean, Hoping someone will hear the faint echoes of their ache. But most days, Their own needs dissolve into the shadows, Invisible in the light they give to others. And in the stillness of their loneliness, They wonder if anyone will ever listen The way they have listened all along.

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Look at the streets crumble, They were just fine. Now look at you, The cracks in your face tell me You can't hold it together, One more time. Savage world, Bitter truth, It'll do no good to whine. But it'll do no good to pretend You're fine. So you found that Life isn't fair, It's full of secrets and truth, A hidden lair, That I could still never hide from you Because it was always there. Love had its affairs, And you had it all, The bitter truth reveals a broken man, Trying to stand tall. Trying not to bend, Or break, or fail, A man doing his best Not to crumble like the streets, And continue to lose it all.

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Jun 22, 2024

Jun 22, 2024 at 6:46 PM UTC

Look at the streets crumble, They were just fine. Now look at you, The cracks in your face tell me You can't hold it together, One more time. Savage world, Bitter truth, It'll do no good to whine. But it'll do no good to pretend You're fine. So you found that Life isn't fair, It's full of secrets and truth, A hidden lair, That I could still never hide from you Because it was always there. Love had its affairs, And you had it all, The bitter truth reveals a broken man, Trying to stand tall. Trying not to bend, Or break, or fail, A man doing his best Not to crumble like the streets, And continue to lose it all.

Continue reading...

colored handprints alight splattered in dots and lines a glassy pillow stretches its wrinkled and hairlined skin cracked creaking crooked stretched wearing thin.. a hold on the waves grasping currents passing rushing farther and farther painting the vastness of this open ended question muddled muddied marred blurring in sight

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May 22, 2022

May 22, 2022 at 5:02 PM UTC

fake_ian--G1100

mild bittersweetness

colored handprints alight splattered in dots and lines a glassy pillow stretches its wrinkled and hairlined skin cracked creaking crooked stretched wearing thin.. a hold on the waves grasping currents passing rushing farther and farther painting the vastness of this open ended question muddled muddied marred blurring in sight

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DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, wasn't a midnight this time:) in a brilliant black dress just like hers better the darker I guess but she was an actress on a stage wings with no limit or a cage the lighter lights older violent notes roses bleed the blood in red quotes like perfect poem lines played like a movie tape upon eyes pink stars in permanent seen when fell of the argument talk some sense into the ceiling on a page of eternal with no feeling not the best of all the endings some bones of broken to the mending back to lipstick on coffee cup smells smart the sky rains a fall a dream from the start ------ravenfeels

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Jul 22, 2021

Jul 22, 2021 at 4:46 PM UTC

Cinderella's Midday Hour

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, wasn't a midnight this time:) in a brilliant black dress just like hers better the darker I guess but she was an actress on a stage wings with no limit or a cage the lighter lights older violent notes roses bleed the blood in red quotes like perfect poem lines played like a movie tape upon eyes pink stars in permanent seen when fell of the argument talk some sense into the ceiling on a page of eternal with no feeling not the best of all the endings some bones of broken to the mending back to lipstick on coffee cup smells smart the sky rains a fall a dream from the start ------ravenfeels

Continue reading...

I seen this ****** photograph once, taken in lovely black and white A beautiful figure framed by shadows, A beautiful young dark-haired girl naked kneeling on a stairway With one hand draped across her ******* As if protecting herself from something, maybe even shielding her heart Her face, it is turned away to one side And buried in her other hand As if she's suffering some great distress or sorrow, Far from arousing in me ****** feelings, this photograph It spoke to me of something else Something quite different and much more significant More than mere words could possibly say It spoke to me...it spoke to me of my whole life. Her body there, so youthful, beautiful without a blemish Her lovely contours and curves smooth like the sand dunes of a desert Her beautiful face made sad Her petite delicate little shoulders and arms Her wonderful ******* her lovely tummy/belly, the roundness of her hips The bones of her knees jutting out from where she was kneeling Her thighs and calves resting upon one another Her ankles and little feet tucked in behind Here was Youth in all its glorious splendor... and innocence With all its wonderful promise, Strangely, it reminded me of my own Youth and my own body once Before age and the World had done their damage This wonderful garment thrown over our eyes and our bones And I remembered myself as a little child, running across the beach... across the strand And I was talking to my legs, saying, "Come on legs! Faster! Faster!" And I was hitting my hip with my hand as if it were a whip And as if my legs were those of a horse galloping Just like in the old Westerns we used watch (on TV) Yes! There was a time once when I used to talk to my body, a private little world I had, It was my closest, my most intimate friend You'd do it when you were alone like it was the most natural thing in the world, You needed a friend to talk to about this strange world you were in, And then I remembered the little girl next door They used put us together playing, us children, us being around the same age She was such a sweet little thing, the way she used to laugh and smile all the time Like the cutest little kitten The joy in her eyes and that smile of hers Where was it coming from... somewhere inside, somewhere within And then I remembered, I too had it once, that same joy, that same smile It had lived in me too once... that bliss. 2 That photograph, it struck me as being something almost holy It reminded me straightaway, it reminded me of the Garden of Eden story The beautiful body had been the Garden you see And in the Garden there was no fear and no danger Like a little kitten lolling about, rolling on its belly and stretching itself out Without a worry or a care Without a cloud on its horizon A beautiful magical kingdom before the Mind ever existed. But now looking again at the photograph and at her face made sad buried there in her hand Now the photograph was telling me Suddenly, all at once, there came a day and a shadow Something from outside, it had entered her mind, some ugliness from the world It had disturbed her for the first time And this was a new sensation to her And it had frightened her "How could such a dark ugly thing exist", she was wondering, 'And how can I live now with this in my world, Now that I've seen it, it will always be there", And then another memory came back to me, That of myself as a little child lying in bed Shaking my head from side to side, even bumping my head against the wall There was something there in my head I didn't like, something I didn't want to hear or see, something disturbing I didn't want it there, I wanted it to go away I wanted it to stop, But it wouldn't stop and it wouldn't go away And you realised it'd always be there like some shadow hovering in the background. 3 Now dark clouds were beginning to gather over the Garden and the beautiful Body Now the World was coming and the Tyranny, the Tyranny of the Mind was beginning The Gates of the Garden, they were slowly starting to close Yea, the fields of Arcadia were fading, the exotic fruits and feelings there were being taken away Its lovely sweet river of ambrosia would now soon cease to flow. Like the Snow Queen and her Icy Blizzard, like a cruel invading army The Mind had awoken now like a sleeping dragon and the World, it was coming, coming now to feed Starting to pour in like through a breached dam The World with all its books and its lessons, its rules and examinations The mental world forcefully asserting itself With its bullying cajoling teachers and its many humiliations, The Mind weighing down hard now upon the Body, leaning on it, squeezing it and straining it Pulling it this way and that, hither and thither All out of shape, all over the place Rivers of outside influences flowing in now You were like a tiny boat tossed upon stupendous waves Always at the mercy of other people's words Blown all over the place Sometimes, sometimes I just couldn't stomach it, I couldn't digest it Sometimes I could only just throw it all up. 4 The Beautiful Body... Garden no longer, now just some hollow empty shell The Mind alone was all that mattered now All consuming and all devouring The Body starting to buckle and to crumble Underneath all that weight, the stress and the strain Not knowing how to deal with it....lost and bewildered Among the new feelings of emptiness and of pain Overeating and undereating, unable to eat at all Growing fat thinking that that could protect you from all the new fears in your brain. 5 The Body that beautiful Garden with its golden days Were now long gone and forgotten Thorns and briars had grown up in their stead Just like some long lost fairytale Sleeping Beauty. Made poor now and impoverished I remembered... I had been a King once long ago back in my old Garden. (The faint joys of the Mind y'know they were nothing in comparison To what I'd known in that sweet Garden of old, that sweet Garden of mine). Now when I look in the mirror I can hardly see myself anymore But when I look at this photograph I can see myself there.

0

Apr 20, 2021

Apr 20, 2021 at 1:07 PM UTC

What the Photograph said to me (Strange Angel)

I seen this ****** photograph once, taken in lovely black and white A beautiful figure framed by shadows, A beautiful young dark-haired girl naked kneeling on a stairway With one hand draped across her ******* As if protecting herself from something, maybe even shielding her heart Her face, it is turned away to one side And buried in her other hand As if she's suffering some great distress or sorrow, Far from arousing in me ****** feelings, this photograph It spoke to me of something else Something quite different and much more significant More than mere words could possibly say It spoke to me...it spoke to me of my whole life. Her body there, so youthful, beautiful without a blemish Her lovely contours and curves smooth like the sand dunes of a desert Her beautiful face made sad Her petite delicate little shoulders and arms Her wonderful ******* her lovely tummy/belly, the roundness of her hips The bones of her knees jutting out from where she was kneeling Her thighs and calves resting upon one another Her ankles and little feet tucked in behind Here was Youth in all its glorious splendor... and innocence With all its wonderful promise, Strangely, it reminded me of my own Youth and my own body once Before age and the World had done their damage This wonderful garment thrown over our eyes and our bones And I remembered myself as a little child, running across the beach... across the strand And I was talking to my legs, saying, "Come on legs! Faster! Faster!" And I was hitting my hip with my hand as if it were a whip And as if my legs were those of a horse galloping Just like in the old Westerns we used watch (on TV) Yes! There was a time once when I used to talk to my body, a private little world I had, It was my closest, my most intimate friend You'd do it when you were alone like it was the most natural thing in the world, You needed a friend to talk to about this strange world you were in, And then I remembered the little girl next door They used put us together playing, us children, us being around the same age She was such a sweet little thing, the way she used to laugh and smile all the time Like the cutest little kitten The joy in her eyes and that smile of hers Where was it coming from... somewhere inside, somewhere within And then I remembered, I too had it once, that same joy, that same smile It had lived in me too once... that bliss. 2 That photograph, it struck me as being something almost holy It reminded me straightaway, it reminded me of the Garden of Eden story The beautiful body had been the Garden you see And in the Garden there was no fear and no danger Like a little kitten lolling about, rolling on its belly and stretching itself out Without a worry or a care Without a cloud on its horizon A beautiful magical kingdom before the Mind ever existed. But now looking again at the photograph and at her face made sad buried there in her hand Now the photograph was telling me Suddenly, all at once, there came a day and a shadow Something from outside, it had entered her mind, some ugliness from the world It had disturbed her for the first time And this was a new sensation to her And it had frightened her "How could such a dark ugly thing exist", she was wondering, 'And how can I live now with this in my world, Now that I've seen it, it will always be there", And then another memory came back to me, That of myself as a little child lying in bed Shaking my head from side to side, even bumping my head against the wall There was something there in my head I didn't like, something I didn't want to hear or see, something disturbing I didn't want it there, I wanted it to go away I wanted it to stop, But it wouldn't stop and it wouldn't go away And you realised it'd always be there like some shadow hovering in the background. 3 Now dark clouds were beginning to gather over the Garden and the beautiful Body Now the World was coming and the Tyranny, the Tyranny of the Mind was beginning The Gates of the Garden, they were slowly starting to close Yea, the fields of Arcadia were fading, the exotic fruits and feelings there were being taken away Its lovely sweet river of ambrosia would now soon cease to flow. Like the Snow Queen and her Icy Blizzard, like a cruel invading army The Mind had awoken now like a sleeping dragon and the World, it was coming, coming now to feed Starting to pour in like through a breached dam The World with all its books and its lessons, its rules and examinations The mental world forcefully asserting itself With its bullying cajoling teachers and its many humiliations, The Mind weighing down hard now upon the Body, leaning on it, squeezing it and straining it Pulling it this way and that, hither and thither All out of shape, all over the place Rivers of outside influences flowing in now You were like a tiny boat tossed upon stupendous waves Always at the mercy of other people's words Blown all over the place Sometimes, sometimes I just couldn't stomach it, I couldn't digest it Sometimes I could only just throw it all up. 4 The Beautiful Body... Garden no longer, now just some hollow empty shell The Mind alone was all that mattered now All consuming and all devouring The Body starting to buckle and to crumble Underneath all that weight, the stress and the strain Not knowing how to deal with it....lost and bewildered Among the new feelings of emptiness and of pain Overeating and undereating, unable to eat at all Growing fat thinking that that could protect you from all the new fears in your brain. 5 The Body that beautiful Garden with its golden days Were now long gone and forgotten Thorns and briars had grown up in their stead Just like some long lost fairytale Sleeping Beauty. Made poor now and impoverished I remembered... I had been a King once long ago back in my old Garden. (The faint joys of the Mind y'know they were nothing in comparison To what I'd known in that sweet Garden of old, that sweet Garden of mine). Now when I look in the mirror I can hardly see myself anymore But when I look at this photograph I can see myself there.

Continue reading...

In the night, I pretend to feel warmth of your body and hands, big and strong, wishing not to wake up, not to feel this cold absence of you (too real). I escape to the fantasy— —stop, loose myself in the ecstasy— —don't! Would you think of me less if you knew that I wish to not see morning dew? But the sun will come out anyway, painting all of my dreams with cold grey... After making another mistake, I sit here, on our bed, wide awake. Slender body beside is not yours. I'm not fooled: It's not love – it's remorse. Here, I crumble in this morning light, feeling all the effects of last night. He'll wake up and pick up all his stuff, look at me and breathe out: "that's enough." He will leave; there isn't much I can give to him now, as your absence I grieve. One day, maybe, I'll see him for him, Embrace on purpose — not on a whim. Would you deem me a cheat if I flee to his arms and pretend to be free from this loss, maybe learning to heal? Would you blame me for wanting to feel his—another man's—warmth in our bed that hasn't been warm at all since you left?

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Apr 11, 2021

Apr 11, 2021 at 3:04 PM UTC

In the night, I pretend to feel warmth of your body and hands, big and strong, wishing not to wake up, not to feel this cold absence of you (too real). I escape to the fantasy— —stop, loose myself in the ecstasy— —don't! Would you think of me less if you knew that I wish to not see morning dew? But the sun will come out anyway, painting all of my dreams with cold grey... After making another mistake, I sit here, on our bed, wide awake. Slender body beside is not yours. I'm not fooled: It's not love – it's remorse. Here, I crumble in this morning light, feeling all the effects of last night. He'll wake up and pick up all his stuff, look at me and breathe out: "that's enough." He will leave; there isn't much I can give to him now, as your absence I grieve. One day, maybe, I'll see him for him, Embrace on purpose — not on a whim. Would you deem me a cheat if I flee to his arms and pretend to be free from this loss, maybe learning to heal? Would you blame me for wanting to feel his—another man's—warmth in our bed that hasn't been warm at all since you left?

Continue reading...

if you can't accept my rejection, its not my issue as i can't love you anymore, because i have realized my worth just like you did back then— when my heart was crumbled down under your feet i am not doing it to take revenge it's karma, who is back to give you, what you gave others

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Mar 2, 2021

Mar 2, 2021 at 9:23 AM UTC

i can't love you anymore

if you can't accept my rejection, its not my issue as i can't love you anymore, because i have realized my worth just like you did back then— when my heart was crumbled down under your feet i am not doing it to take revenge it's karma, who is back to give you, what you gave others

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Turritopsis dohrnii: A species of jellyfish that can revert back To a sexually immature state when its injured or dying, making it biologically immortal. A jellyfish, Nothing but thickened water Some genetic material Polythene bags and paper glue, Is granted immortality. We, humans The heirs of a billion evolutions, A million grains of life, Crumble like sand castles Scatter like sawdust. The universe taunts, Laugh until your shadow swallows you Your every breath was a thousand last breaths, Puny mortal. **

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Jan 12, 2021

Jan 12, 2021 at 5:43 AM UTC

Jellyfishes and Sandcastles

Turritopsis dohrnii: A species of jellyfish that can revert back To a sexually immature state when its injured or dying, making it biologically immortal. A jellyfish, Nothing but thickened water Some genetic material Polythene bags and paper glue, Is granted immortality. We, humans The heirs of a billion evolutions, A million grains of life, Crumble like sand castles Scatter like sawdust. The universe taunts, Laugh until your shadow swallows you Your every breath was a thousand last breaths, Puny mortal. **

Continue reading...

Trading life for death isn't the countermeasure for strife! As it is very "politely" too say that life mocks the complete scenario of death itself. However, if you actually started to take a little closer look at ourselves in general... You'd come to say that our very lives, aren't so different when death essentially claims them. Only when it is time for our lives to become entirely subjected upon deaths desire to appoint life to crumble at deaths very feet. Life in deaths very comparison for an opposite comparison, is seeing that it's nothing but "dust at one's very toes". But when life is about to crumble and seemingly turn into a crumbling dustless ash... It see's itself (for the very first time ever) plead too death in such a way as if it's begging at it's very, well...feet! Revealing it's form of crumbling dustless ash, even before it's become aware of that very state. As all life ever wanted (after coming to the final point in it's very supposed fluid ride of existence) was to hope for a nice ending! Until finding out that death wasn't so merciful!

0

Aug 1, 2020

Aug 1, 2020 at 4:56 PM UTC

Trading life for death!

Trading life for death isn't the countermeasure for strife! As it is very "politely" too say that life mocks the complete scenario of death itself. However, if you actually started to take a little closer look at ourselves in general... You'd come to say that our very lives, aren't so different when death essentially claims them. Only when it is time for our lives to become entirely subjected upon deaths desire to appoint life to crumble at deaths very feet. Life in deaths very comparison for an opposite comparison, is seeing that it's nothing but "dust at one's very toes". But when life is about to crumble and seemingly turn into a crumbling dustless ash... It see's itself (for the very first time ever) plead too death in such a way as if it's begging at it's very, well...feet! Revealing it's form of crumbling dustless ash, even before it's become aware of that very state. As all life ever wanted (after coming to the final point in it's very supposed fluid ride of existence) was to hope for a nice ending! Until finding out that death wasn't so merciful!

Continue reading...

i feel like we’re all alone i feel like i could dissolve

0

May 9, 2020

May 9, 2020 at 8:54 PM UTC

high is there anybody in there

i feel like we’re all alone i feel like i could dissolve

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One minute you’re indulging in life’s empty promises, full of light with a touch a glow; and suddenly, you’ve been consumed by the paradox of your own mind; crumbling; deteriorating; without a trace, you’re dying.

0

Mar 1, 2020

Mar 1, 2020 at 6:26 PM UTC

natashapietrobuono

One minute you’re indulging in life’s empty promises, full of light with a touch a glow; and suddenly, you’ve been consumed by the paradox of your own mind; crumbling; deteriorating; without a trace, you’re dying.

Continue reading...

You listen to me But you don't hear me at all I'm not so sure you heard My screams and my bawls You left me to sit here, Watch me crumble and fall Now I'm positive You don't care at all Because you never pick Up the phone when I call Now I'll sit here alone And talk to these Paper thin walls

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Jan 12, 2020

Jan 12, 2020 at 10:21 AM UTC

Paper Thin Walls

You listen to me But you don't hear me at all I'm not so sure you heard My screams and my bawls You left me to sit here, Watch me crumble and fall Now I'm positive You don't care at all Because you never pick Up the phone when I call Now I'll sit here alone And talk to these Paper thin walls

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She left the gate agar And the sun crept in to steal my time, Adding the ever-careful wrinkles round my eyes. Dead strawberries withered with care And Rainy, ****** skies weighed down with weeks of meager, longing stares. Is there more I can hold in the folds of my fingers? Drip through the cracks, I fumble. I wish I could see my darkening eyes... And hear the seeds of my labor crumble

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Nov 4, 2019

Nov 4, 2019 at 2:38 PM UTC

She Left the Gate Agar

She left the gate agar And the sun crept in to steal my time, Adding the ever-careful wrinkles round my eyes. Dead strawberries withered with care And Rainy, ****** skies weighed down with weeks of meager, longing stares. Is there more I can hold in the folds of my fingers? Drip through the cracks, I fumble. I wish I could see my darkening eyes... And hear the seeds of my labor crumble

Continue reading...

I was your crumble you licked, Mmm.... But your always my cookie...

0

Oct 27, 2019

Oct 27, 2019 at 3:52 PM UTC

I was your crumble you licked, Mmm.... But your always my cookie...

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You let me fall when I trusted you Not that I can’t blame you You knew too well how I felt By crushing my heart while I was asking for help You notice me, I know Turning your head every now and again Don’t you ever wonder what goes on in my head? Or do you just want to look at a person, Crumbled in your reach? I get it... You mean well Shining in the spotlight While I’m sunken below Drunk on a useless thought That’ll you’ll be the light at the end of the tunnel.

0

Sep 23, 2019

Sep 23, 2019 at 9:34 PM UTC

You let me fall when I trusted you Not that I can’t blame you You knew too well how I felt By crushing my heart while I was asking for help You notice me, I know Turning your head every now and again Don’t you ever wonder what goes on in my head? Or do you just want to look at a person, Crumbled in your reach? I get it... You mean well Shining in the spotlight While I’m sunken below Drunk on a useless thought That’ll you’ll be the light at the end of the tunnel.

Continue reading...