Wednesday, 4 March 2009

Smashed in

Not to moan.
Not to Whine.
Not to take up your precious time.
It's no crime.
To dissapoint and pretend it's fine.
But with a mind like mine.
Broken glass empty of wine.
Held in place by ghostly twine.
I can't function.
Can't move back inline.
and one day it will fall.
All the pieces big and small.
And that's the day I go to the wall.

Christ thing must be easier than this....I don't fucking understand what's what anymore.

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