"council" poems
The sky above me, closed in as the dark, ominous yet fascinating rainclouds have driven near, gathering together in a council.
As it begins to drizzle, soft, warm and little raindrops, fall in
line, gently, carelessly hitting the earth, moistening it in their line.
Once in a while, as the rain gains its strengh, hitting the ground below with more speed and roughlessness in their action,
Rays of the purest light, sent by the sun as it shines above the darkening sky, a sensation for ones optic nerv, a sensation for the eye,
make it through and let this scene shine further more.
Graceful drops, carrried and distorted by the majestic wind,
Create a lovely melody on my window, as they one by one fly into it.
Now as the soil is fertilised, life will surely grow from the sunlight.
Alike the raindrops are carried by the wind, my mind engages with this scene, lets me fall in love with this beautiful earth.
A little rain shall not be the cause of sadness, as it truly is a reminder of the moments of love wich it makes easier to determine.
So I keep my gaze out of the window and enjoy the weather
Until then, the sky clears up and the sun shines again.
~ Umi
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 5:19 PM UTC
In our world technological,
Here's how to talk to gadgets digital,
"Now, listen up, keyboard and router,
Not to mention dysfunctional mouser...
Are you listening to me carefully?
(I am talking to them, but silently),
I do have replacements for each of thee,
I see a future ahead of you three,
Tossed into the gaping jaws of a bin,
off to the council tip, repository of sin,
Did you hear that? Listening in,
Stop trying to do my head in!"
Now they're behaving dutifully,
Technology responding beautifully,
"I'm warning each one of thee,
No more messing around with me!"
Yes, how to talk to technology!
(But make sure you do it silently!)
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
When his Gillette slices the Cake you give
And your Ribbon shows what a Prune he was
It's time to kick his Sorry *** and Live
Then realise he is below your Class
The School Council has met; and Verdict's sent
To advise the Nerds which Athletes are bane
But if you give an Artist a worth-time's spent
He will give the Cherriest Mood insane
Try to open your Doors, dear Fruitful One
For once, know that Other Hearts do exist
If you can sing where the Hill's Grass grow some
Then you know which Plate is worthy to fix.
Now in this Picnic my Noodles grow full
From this Prune-Cake made and sliced from his Soul.
Mar 7, 2013
Mar 7, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC
Are you aware,
did you know,
have you been told
you've got killer voice,
leaving me no choice
but preemptive action...
Let's ensure mutual destruction
of clothes;
my thoughts
made those illegal
in a secret meeting;
that security council
in my head...
while the heart was busy beating,
doing its own thing...
Captives in my cells
twisted and bled out
their escape plans...
Excuse me, got sidetracked,
what's your name again?
I'm twenty-three
but only if you switch the digits.
For a high-functioning whatever,
I must say I'm admirably sane
but you pull the wrong lever,
and the lyrics spill with the melody
breaking the levee.
So what do you do for a living?
That's adorable.
How are we still sitting
and talking here?
You thought I'd be taller;
I was expecting you'd run off screaming.
Let's drink to that, the small victories!
Time will tell what's next
if only we listen,
instead of reading more text,
unless we're OK with missing out.
God, my thoughts do talk loud!
When did your face get so near?
Lips go "clink", and eyes go "Cheers!"
Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 10:19 AM UTC
Shouting for longevity,
Slamming at the counterers…
- upon your dignified respite!
Would-be detractors without brevity,
Before the wine-dark Sea at night…
A pleading to philosophy of commonly renowned,
Beating sand and posturing, uncouth before a crown;
“Priam please!”
Sun and Moon,
two sons shall plead,
nay, -beg in tandem with the man;
“He serves the seas, trust him please, our father; this priest of Trojan-land!”
Laocoon
“Fear the Greeks, of mind I speak, approval by a van-i-ty; it surely is a death you seek!
An asp this horse, gift no more and tragedy in due remorse,
I beg of you my call to heed, wooden-burnt this crispy steed,
…alight in flame, glorified name; Poseidon shall endorse!”
Priests of Apollo
“Ridiculous! Worship we must, now bring it to the City thus!”
Laocoon
“The actions of accursed Kore,
Need I remind you all Paris caused this war?
For he mocked this god, the abyss it knows, with terror comes a deadly tide,
**** that fool and his fiddling pride!*
Burn this beast we must with haste for Greeks they have a certain taste,
Their acts meant always to confound, wily, since they were unbound.
What harm may do, to rest at shore? Consult the stars of yester-yore.
Assign no chore, one heaven’s night, plus a day, to sit upon our princely shore?”
Setting
(read/spoken at the fastest pace the reader can go)
A horrid hiss above the wave as two doth slither from out the cave…
The creatures from the darkest days, ancient spectacle for the knaves, bear witness to the punishment, commanded by a great trident, hearing screams of bannermen, for King and council a shocking twist, serpents ****** from out the mists, encircling priest and his kin, the howling they had done no sin, never be forgot-ten, as Typhon cried out merrily, serpents and the tragic sea; swallowed up all the three.
Priam
“Farewell dear Laocoon and two sons with thee!” *
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 4:13 PM UTC
UMMMMMMMMM SAVE US FROM THESE ONLINE KILLERS
UMMMMMMMMM THEY ARE JUST TRYING TO ENJOY THE FUTURE OF TECHNOLOGY
UMMMMMMMMM PLEASE SAVE OUR YOUNG, UMMMMMMM THEY ARE TREATED LIKE TOYS
UMMMMMMMMM STOP THESE INTERNET PREDATORS, UMMMMMM FROM GETTING THEIR WAY WITH VICTIMS
UMMMMMMMMM THE COMPUTER ISN’T A TOY, IT CAN BE DANGEROUS, DON’T LET MY OLD ME, IN ANY OF YOU
I DON’T WANT PEOPLE GETTING ME WRONG UMMMMMMMMM I WANT ANY SIDE OF KIDNAPPER OUT OF ME
UMMMMMMMMM PLEASE COUNCIL BRETT’S FAMILY UMMMMMMMMMM PLEASE COUNCIL BRETT’S FAMILY
UMMMMMMMMM THESE INTERNET PREDATORS MUST BE STOPPED, UMMMMMMMM BURT IT’S HARD TO STOP THEM
UMMMMMMMMM YOUTUBE IS FUN AND UMMMMMMMMM DONE IN THE RIGHT WAY, FACEBOOK IS FUN
UMMMMMMMMM YOUNG DUDES, BE CAREFUL, UMMMMMMM YOUNG DUDES BE CAREFUL
UMMMMMMMMM DON’T MAKE STRANGE FRIENDS, UMMMMMMM CHOOSE YOUR MATES CAREFULLY
UMMMMMMMMMM CAUSE, THIS IS A HORRIBLE EVENT UMMMMMMM HELP GIVE EVERYONE PROPER COMPUTER CLASSES
UMMMMMMMMMM ON HOW TO HAVE FUN ON COMPUTER UMMMMMMM MY DAD WHO DIED AND BORN AGAIN AS ELIZABETH ANN CAMPBELL
UMMMMMMMMMM ALWAYS TRIED TO UNDERSTAND TECHNOLOGY UMMMMMM DON’T LET INNOCENT BOYS BE CAPTURED BY COMPUTER GEEKS
UMMMMMMMMMM NO COMPUTERS ARE FUN, SOCIAL MEDIA IS FUN UMMMMMM BUT PREDATORS ARE DANGEROUS
UMMMMMMMMMM DON’T LET WHAT HAPPENED TO BRETT, HAPPEN TO YOU, UMMMMMMMM TECHNOLOGY IS FUN, UMMMMMMM TECHNOLOGY IS FUN
UMMMMMMMMM BUDDHA ATHENA AND CROBUS, WHO IS ME, TO STOP ONLINE PREDATORS, GET THE HANDS ON OUR YOUNG
UMMMMMMMMM EVEN IF THEY ARE YOUNG THEMSELVES, UMMMMMMMMMM YEAH, BRING US PEACE FROM STUPID PREDATORS
UMMMMMMMMMM I AIN’T COOL TO **** UMMMMMMMMMM LIKE THE MAN DOING BURNOUTS IN THE CARPARK UMMMMMMM IT MIGHT LOOK FUN
UMMMMMMMMMM BUT IT COULD’VE KILLED THAT LADY, UMMMMMMMMMM IS IT REALLY WORTH IT, UMMMMMMMM IS IT REALLY WORTH IT
UMMMMMMMMMMM IS IT REALLY WORTH IT, TO **** FOR TECHNOLOGY, UMMMMMMMMM IT DOESN’T IMPROVE THE WORLD
UMMMMMMMM TO SEE ONLINE PREDATORS, GET THEIR WAY, UMMMMMMMMMM UMMMMMMMMMM UMMMMMMMMMM
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
I am not just like my mother or father
I am just like me
I am an individual
I am all I want to be
Society defines us
By what job we tend to do
one hundred and sixty hours a week
I walk in my own shoes
I may have a waitress job
I may live in a council flat
I may not be as rich as you
But what is wrong with that?
I am me, I am many things
I am a girlfriend, I am a mother
I live life the way I choose
and I am like no other
I am a poet, a traveller
I am open minded and free
I am blessed with many friends
I am as happy as can be
Aug 18, 2011
Aug 18, 2011 at 4:18 PM UTC
He struts through the street
With an arrogant stride
A staffy at his feet
Fills him with pride
Baseball cap on his head
Peak points in the air
Yea blood I'm hard
And I don't seem to care
Trackies and hoodies
Are the code of his dress
Big golden chains
Hang low on his chest
Sock's pulled up high
Above his designer boots
I'm a council house chav
So proud of me roots
I'm hard and I know it
And I'll rob ya of bread
Don't mess with me
Or you'll end up dead
His attitude stinks
Filth falls from his gob
With a chip on his shoulder
He don't want a job
But under the bravado
He's as quiet as a mouse
Living his life
From his council house
His mum is on drugs
His dad is long gone
No wonder this bloke
Turned out to be wrong
So show him some kindness
Just a friendly word
Might just be the the thing
That stops him doing bird
I somehow much doubt it
But its worth a try
Cause deep underneath
He's a friendly guy
Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 3:16 AM UTC
***She sits in shadows
Displaced by life
Forgotten by self
Dejected by all those Crows that fly Northwards
A Sparrow hawk calls
She remembers him but utters nothing
that is desirable
He flies onwards
Never to look upon her
Dark princess
Of lower grounds
She holds fast and keeps council with demons
Demons who roam the corridors of her soul
Pulling the cloak over her nakedness
as the stage illuminates the way
An actress of sorts
Another west end show
A vagabond who plays her hero
Darkness falls from her
And all who are touched by her fateful hand
Will linger no more in sun drenched meadows
Too bright to see
Too good to believe
Her fearfulness becomes her
Her innocence laid bare upon a slab of false regret
Be he gone from her mind
She may be free
For what lingers a princess in darkness
Than a love betrayed
The darkened hour may find its way into any heart
The broken man
Can do as he tries
But stumbles when he beholds her stare.***
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 4:42 PM UTC
I am the Council-Man and I decree,
All that you can do and all that you see,
For I make the rules and I am the law,
And no one best test me, for I command all.
Bow on your knees citizen, for I will be King!
*“Once I have made rules, to control every-thing!” *
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 10:33 AM UTC
SUMMER SUN
............................he walks the long beach
and is it's song
WARRIOR'S FIGHT
................muses from the cliff top
pondering "peace"
MOONLIGHT PEACE
...........................she is the mighty mistress
of the dance
DANCING BEAR
..................follows the swift stream
to its source
CREATION'S GLORY
...............awaits all the tribal youth
who want to learn
TOGETHER ALWAYS
........................watches all from
the council teepee
ah the tribe.....each one free!
no one named
TAX PAYER!
or
TEA BAG MAN!
or
STINKING ****** LIBERAL!
or
DITTO HEAD SHAM!
-----------
TRIBAL LOVE
not
TRIVIALITY
no
PATRIOTS!
just
YOU AND ME
Jul 30, 2010
Jul 30, 2010 at 10:28 AM UTC
Encephalon is the flagitious syndicate target
To imprison the saintly and resistant population
In the research agenda which is classified
We are selected guinea pigs in a nightmare
To the unethical secret operations
Unknown to many, is the silent suffering
Of isolated victims living amongst the community
Satellite surveillance includes electromagnetic harassment
That burning, thought stealing, control of limbs feeling
I was done by the hoary Navy's sonar
Poor dolphins washed up Cornwall's beach(1)
After sonar echoed in my right lughole
Mind control technology has evolved
The community are recruited by false propaganda
Thats the local police, council, library, not restricted to neighbours
Old style Cointelpro is in play
Discredited, slanders, and victim blaming
Who can we share with but other targets
Nobody asked which human is for "use" in trials?
Jun 24, 2020
Jun 24, 2020 at 10:37 AM UTC
So, up to Liverpool,
pretty cool,
I've got family there, and I'm trying to find my bearings.
When I was a kid I went with my Auntie to the Adelphi Hotel,
I remember it well,
so that's where I'll start, move my feet,
it's a quick walk to Bold Street.
Everyone flocks to the Albert Docks,
regenerated, updated, and has created a vibrant corner of a once-thriving port city,
which is pleasing,
the only downside is it's ****** freezing!
The nights out are decent too,
this where Liverpool really pulls through.
Matthews Street, can't be beat,
or Concert Square,
where, you head to Baa Bar for some shots and a few jars.
Then onto Nation with the rest of Liverpool's student population,
going down to Wolstenholme Square,
great memories, shame it's no longer there.
Capital of Culture, lots to explore,
the council wants to restore the city centre,
Liverpool One is second to none.
New shops to buy our Fred Perry tops,
new bars to entertain us,
new places to wear our smart Adidas trainers.
A modern shopping centre to walk through,
have they really called it Everton Two?
Girls off to the supermarket with their hair up in rollers and wearing their PJ's,
funny looks on the face of people who are new to the place.
Lads in black Lacoste trackies,
in the 1980s they came back from the continent after European success,
wearing Fila and Ellesse,
it was called casual,
the style went national.
A city of myths legends,
some more tongue in cheek but still unique.
A sock robber from Kirkby,
is it the original Cavern Club? Well, to a degree.
What about Carragher's tattoo?
He's blue born and bred,
is Paul McCartney actually dead?
I know it's a clichè, but I must say,
it isn't a mere rumour,
there is undoubtedly a Scouse sense of humour,
wordplay and the inflexion on the things they say.
A witty city that's for sure, come and visit,
you'll have everything you need and more.
May 6, 2020
May 6, 2020 at 12:45 PM UTC
so King Lion
summoned us for a meeting
and King sat on his throne
and before he started
the King looked in my direction
and he roared:
*"Hyena - don't you dare laugh;
here in Council what we deliberate over
is no laughing matter"*
And I ****** in my pants
(in a manner of speaking)
and sat throughout the meeting
trembling in fear, as it seemed
to the King -
but also because I had to keep
my suppressed laughter
rocking in my tummy
throughout the meeting
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 12:40 AM UTC
Knowledge is butterflies in flight.
A doubting caterpillar needs
His faith in metamorphosis.
Without it his future: horror.
Mother gone this way before him.
Father gone before his time here.
The only hope: whispered instinct.
A still sound in the face of fear.
"Those who've gone before me", says he
"Loved me and wanted good for me."
"They willed me to believe in life
Beyond: the metamorphosis."
Every day, eat of leaf. Chew. Rest.
Do not wander ye from safety.
Heed ye these rules, follow the way.
Know ye that our decree's from love.
Brother tells tall tales, adventure
Excitement, a world of wonder
To have now! No waiting, no need
To wait, fear, hope. Enjoy it now!
Brother says: "metamorphosis
Is a tale made by those who want
To control and manipulate.
To keep us from pleasures in life."
Brother says: "The dark chrysalis
Is a grave, death, ending, final.
Now is time to discover.
What tastes good is the true good.
Only now do we have the chance
To learn, explore, see and enjoy."
He's eaten leaves outside the path.
Brother says: "they are juicy good!
Come all, leave this way mapped by those
Who want to keep you from juicy
Leaves and the whole wide world to see"
Brother says. "Don't hope, enjoy now."
Sister left the barque, left the safe
Path to the leaves mapped out by some
Unknown cartographer. Unknown!
She's not back. He hopes for her best.
But our caterpillar here, friend,
Has chosen the old dreams and hope.
To follow the path mapped to leaves
That nourish the body and heart.
He has chosen to believe that
The wisdom of age and instinct
Is more trustworthy than the word
Of youthful brother's juicy world.
His doubts he's cocooned in faith's silk.
These bland leaves he eats for promise
Of sweet flower's nectar beyond.
Today's toil for tomorrow's joy.
Doubt frightens. The chrysalis looms.
No control, nature compels it.
Unfair, afraid, the silk spins tight.
In pain, the world grows dark and still.
He faces his end. He must choose
To listen to the still, small sound.
Have faith he's not schizophrenic.
Believe in more passed the cocoon.
His ancestral council and creed
He chooses to embrace and trust
To face his end with dream and hope.
His doubts cocooned by faith in Love.
Butterflies are knowledge in flight.
For at their end, faith is fulfilled.
These butterflies their joy have reached,
Through faith in metamorphosis.
Jun 25, 2011
Jun 25, 2011 at 9:01 PM UTC
Life it's just a boardgame
But it comes without instruction
There's happiness joy
Devastation corruption
Good days sad days
Cruel ways crime that pays
Gotta learn the rules fast
Play the game
Make it last
If you wana be a winner
Got more chance as a sinner
The games hard can't be slow
You'll Learn more as you go
There's pleasure treasure
Love we can't measure
Politics religion
Prostitutes and virgins
Special occasions
No order in the nations
Good intentions
Wrong interpretations
Wrangles scandals
******** n vandals
Temptation resistance
Council tax insistence
Birthdays holidays
Cruel ways crime that pays
Gotta learn the rules fast
Play the game make it last !
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 7:33 PM UTC
the garbage truck didn't turn up to-day
and the neighborhood trash stunk all day
a gross smell drifted across the street
it was akin to a rotting pile of peat
the council have heard the odd gripe
they've been told that the ******* is ripe
the residential area is no perfumery
our quarter acre blocks are so stinky
we'll be forced to vacate the neighborhood
as uncollected garbage is far from good
the air is heady with stale fish and curry
vegetable matter and an assortment of slurry
it is hoped that a truck can soon be found
as we'll be decamping the area's bounds
our noses have had a harrowing time
inhaling a stench which isn't sublime
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 7:42 PM UTC
we'm from the valleys,
high in wales,
dull as donkeys,
hard as nails.
torvaen town,blaenavon gwent,
council caves,that some pay rent.
black and white tellys,
run on gas,
houses wiv lectric,is upper class.
we shoplift in winter,
cos summers no good,
you can't wear coats,
you can't wear hoods.
we once mined coal,
made steel and iron,
honest hardmen,
pittance relied on.
now thats all gone,
thro government bullies,
now hoodies steal goodies,
from tesco and woolies.
valley boy logic,
philosophy real,
all good fings come.
....to those who steal.
Feb 24, 2010
Feb 24, 2010 at 9:58 AM UTC
Jack and Jill
Went up the hill
With Bill And Ted
To buy two bottles
Of mineral water.
Jack and Jill
Came tumbling down
Fatally cracking their heads open
And the local council was done
For corporate manslaughter.
But Bill and Ted
Came down on their mountain bikes
With the mineral water
towed on a skateboard.
And having buried Jack and Jill
At an environmentally friendly funeral
They headed for the Amazon
On solar powered surfboards.
Thus they concurred
This was yet again
As vinegar
Bed and
Brown paper-free
As there ever could be
Excellent Adventure.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 8:49 AM UTC
How far would you travel from where you were born?
She spends more on her dogs in one week,
Than the government provides for those in trouble.
She’s a naturally happy person.
The mottled concrete walls of the council block she’s moved in to,
Complement her pock-marked, pink skin.
For a rich person,
She’s ugly.
The doors to buildings are painted bright colours,
-blues and greens-
And stand out against the brown stone that is everywhere.
Kevin is a mousey young man with stringy brown hair,
Recovering from drugs,
And she thinks he looks like a very nice man.
They are playing football on cement outside,
-plants are expensive-
Now talking over vegetables, around a table,
About the young mothers who will be coming in to learn,
How to grow turnips -
Like growing confidence, they’ll be told.
Did you know that people move to Dundee from Warsaw?
Makes you wonder what Warsaw is like-
-who’s fault it is that people can’t eat alcohol-
She’s hanging knickers out to dry and telling me that she’s discovered,
She doesn’t need all the shoes that she has,
And would it do if she were to donate,
A hundred and fifty thousand pounds?
They smile when they receive their checks.
Their blue doors fly open,
And when they say thank you, they mean it,
The money is enough.
Round the back,
The husband is in tears.
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 4:51 PM UTC
Gazing south as if some wise, well worn fisherman,leaning against the wroughted railed pier in all its victorian, gordy, standing, splendor.
Warmed and held by the summer sun as close as shared spoon-cuddled arms.
On thermal air, calls and laughter rise from towelled steaked plots
blinding and shading the razor sharp hungry sea-gulls eye from flakey white flesh in all its golden battered salt-shuck sharpness,
competeing on the nose with hand-held melting creamyness, as they waft and weave gently by.
Below the slatted sound , the magic hypnotic spell of lapping waves lift and tilt me on a day dream of youthful lost love.
To a day we made our sun run in all its lazyness, dimming the enviour moon in its wake and kissing still the hands on the pasty-face black towering clock
As time slipped way and was some where else.
With worn drift wood and tingleling toes you defaced the sand with a graphity the council tryed but couldn't erace.
And there it lies still, benieth the smooth pebbled shore,
kissed each day with salty tears and remembered sighs.
A fearful screaming siren pieces the soft English air, Its doppled blast, chilling, pushing, demanding its screeching way through the brain, to some others pained, tear filled day,
then fades on the breeze.
A sun blushed child frowns through pink Brighton rock lips and eyes as blue as the sea, a secert smile is shared as if in that innocence I knew that one magic day she will run on skipping painted toes and giggles sweet to etch for him in soft blank sand her love on this dreamy day beach.
So off the sea and off the pier I strole, absorbed and lost among the tripping faced crowd,into the sun dipped west and home alone.
Yet knowing you will remain forever mine, held in crystal dimonded grains, whilst around the bitter -sweet changing tides ebb and flow
down
through
the
years.
Feb 25, 2011
Feb 25, 2011 at 1:41 AM UTC
Autobiographical fact:
The CIA trained me in covert Martian Martial Arts.
I am better than you.
My fists are weapons of mass destruction.
Boom. Bite the towel, I'm going in dry
like US planes all over Iraq.
Sadam ain't got nothing on me.
(I mean...
He had no weapons to begin with
but I'll **** Cheney his *** and yours too.)
UN Security Council say whut?!
That's what I thought.
-Mic drop-
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 9:22 PM UTC
Running shadows closing in.
Feel the wave come crashing in.
Afraid that I have lost my mind.
Darkness creeping behind.
I am lost!
Lost in neverland.
Lost in neverland.
Shouldn’t have build my house on top of sand!
I’m just lost,
Lost in never land, lost in never land.
Won’t you lend a hand?
When I’m lost in never land?
Feeling swallowed by emotions.
Family can’t understand all the commotion.
For they only see the addiction.
Can’t you see That I am the victim?
Running shadows closing in.
Feel the wave come crashing in.
Afraid that I have lost my mind.
Darkness creeping behind.
I am lost!
Lost in neverland.
Lost in neverland.
Shouldn’t have build my house on top of sand!
I just lost,
Lost in never land, lost in never land.
Won’t you lend a hand?
When I’m lost in never land?
Broken bottle on the ground.
Feeling distorted on the ground.
Blood covered floorboards,
Sinking feeling enters my chest,
Toxins filling in the rest,
But most say I should just give it a rest?
But it doesn’t matter if I got on bullet proof vest,
When my head is exposed.
But sure be my guest.
For if you had to deal with this pest,
Would you pass the test?
My demons rise, while my soul dies and eventually will forever rest.
I’m just lost!
Drowning in my sorrows,
Don’t need taro cards to know my future will end in sorrow.
So, I bury my head and dread the thought of what it might be like to be dead.
When the shadows come rushing in,
Telling me that I’m the vile villain.
And I can only stand these waves for so long,
Before I end up drowning.
And I’m afraid which got my mind spiralling out of control.
All while darkness holds me in its hands,
And I’m just hoping for some council.
But for now...
I am lost!
Lost in neverland, lost in neverland.
Shouldn’t have build my house on top of sand!
I’m just lost,
Lost in neverland, lost in neverland.
Won’t you lend a hand?
When I’m lost in neverland?
Jan 1, 2020
Jan 1, 2020 at 12:43 AM UTC