Seven o'clock.
Broke down like a train.
Six fifty two.
Can't clear my head.
Sometimes I fall.
And although they say get up, I would rather stay down.
Than get back up, just to fall again.
My heart and soul are tired.
My eyes yet not dry.
I can't seem to be enough for these times.
Flickering in the wind.
I am not even visible.
Whispering I am not good enough,
you linger in my head.
Heart beating slower.
Eyes grow dim.
This is my life.
I am giving in.
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I hear you on that one.
ReplyDeletebut don't believe the lies.