Nice guys do finish last
Coming up from behind
I can tell all the shit I hashed
A bad day is like holiday weight
Didn't mean to get it
But now you have to deal with it
Cut, and slice, roll the dice
Damn it snakes eyes
No surprise
How time flies
dragging a body without grave
When you feeling low
Past is hard to let go
Facing the future with nothing to show
Pale white like you seen a ghost
But I was just looking in the mirror
Feeling at the least in a overdose
I try to coast, but the speed is too much
Crash and burn as I am out of touch
Under pressure, submit and crushed
After 30 life seems rushed
YOU ARE READING
The Atrium
PoetryAs the river of life flows right through, collecting at the delta towards the Atrium of my soul
