why can't i make myself think
i have so much to think about, so much to say
i need to address the black
and all the colors that i lack
instead of staying in the gray.
why can't i make myself sing
my voice yearns for a new song to display
i need to belt my feelings out
all this worry, grief and dreadful doubt
in the form of music i can play
but unfortunately
i am
undoubtedly gray.
~and undoubtedly dead
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a/n: here's a non series poem that i quickly wrote. not sure how i feel about it
also, 'undoubtedly gray' is a poem i wrote a while ago. let me know if you want me to post that!
