Our time slowly runs out.
Like the prettiest flower.Your face is steadily hard.
The reasons we're happy,
is unknown as the mysteries beneath the sea.Succumbing to our urges,
is the best defeat.
Because what I like most is that we no longer have to be discreet.
YOU ARE READING
Living A Day Longer Than Death.
PoetryWe're just low life misfits with big dreams...