Days come and pass by,
As this time seems to fly,
We live in hope that anyway, Someday we'll all see the day...
Days are good, sometimes bad, Sometimes these days make you mad,
Sometimes you think you can fly,
But then you crash in a bitter lie.
Something falls from above,
The days that are worth of love,
But sometimes all they're worth is hate,
Bitter truth, terrible fate.
If only a day was worth the time, If only I'd found a better rhyme, With me, my soul and my life, 'Cause my ink is my weapon, my sharp swiss knife.
What are those words that echo? Behind my mind, voice of a gecko, My words my diamonds,
Used to cut, Cut the minds of non-thinkers shut.
For, I it is who needs to think,
For I will find and I will blink,
Will I find the answer to these days?
In god knows how many ways.
-Aneesha.
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Expressions. | ✓
Poëzie[COMPLETED] Highest rank - #31 in Poetry (10th October, 2016) Poems. Some, outcomes of our vurnerable past. Some, results of our imperfect present. Others, products of our boundless imagination. Mine? Here they are. ***
