Shambles of youth,
scuffle along this
Bright town....
The sun is abundent, yet not much seems to grow
No life in these vessels...
No soul in their shoes
They are not aware
They are Dead
Dead to the world
Dead to me...
Or....
Am I the ghost that haunts and wanders...
Observing, patiently until they join me
Or shall I endure my own presence
for the rest of eternity.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment