i think i try to hard
climbing a mountain that only grows
almost, almost, almost
i think i don't try hard enough
downing, sinking
why cant i swim?
i try, try, try
to much, to little
thats all i have to give
YOU ARE READING
the poetry garden《a poetry collection》
Poetry"The flowers are dead But still, they remember The girl who bled Words, not red As she lay down to die Right on the flowers bed." An ever-growing collection of heartfelt poems.
