Sometimes I try to bury it deep down inside, but it still thrives.
Sometimes I don't feel alive, it takes what I need to survive.
Sometimes these words aren't enough.
Sometimes the times get rough.
Sometimes I cry.
Sometimes I lie.
Somtimes I say goodbye.
Goodbye to the world.
YOU ARE READING
Life for the Dead
PoetryPoetry that is to be tasted and chewed. Then swallowed and digested.
