On the dawn of me,
they shall know the song I sing
for a second chance.
When the coal shows faith,
all of the blackness will fade
to a brighter day.
People are the flare,
the fire always tells us how
we will break the stone.
YOU ARE READING
The Confessions of a 90's Kid
Poetry"Words are weapons: for warriors, for war heroes, for worrying teenagers and therefore for me."
