there are nights when i stand
under the moon
cigarette and spirit in hand
wondering how it would feel
to run away
and start afresh someplace new
but i realize i have nowhere to go
there are days when I walk
under the shadows
that the grey clouds of depression
seem to gift me every now and then.
This brokenness that I feel,
I wonder when it will ever end.
s.b. + thedudewhofellfromthesky.
