The breeze carried the ashes,
they were once thoughts
that wanted to give up and end it all.
The thought,
Of the who of who I am, cannot stand by itself,
look around...
there is a why round the corner.
A life waits there, in that intelligence of why all alone,
try that, change the contents of the breeze.
they were once thoughts
that wanted to give up and end it all.
The thought,
Of the who of who I am, cannot stand by itself,
look around...
there is a why round the corner.
A life waits there, in that intelligence of why all alone,
try that, change the contents of the breeze.
No comments:
Post a Comment