You can call it a cult
You can call it a clique
You can call it a blood-pact
Full of souls that are sick
But were just a bunch of misunderstood minds
Our motto: "Stay Alive"
We're barely breathing
Trying to survive
Keeping one another alive
Although we stick together like glue
We're not close enough to be friends
Our souls are old
Not shiny or new
And they are nearing their end
Once things get bad
We say it's our cue
We step up onto the ledge
We're ready to jump
Ready to fall
We're convinced we mean nothing at all
Then someone stops us yet again,
It's our "not close enough to be friends"
They gently pull us away from the ledge
And put the message back in our heads
"Stay Alive."
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Mellifluous Manuscripts | ✎
PoetryHighest: #943 in Poetry » Aesthetic poetry that makes you think. A collection of sad and depressing thoughts. » I'm drowning in this misery, not strong enough to row » I'm merely ruined artwork; a failed masterpiece » Every burden needs a bearer » ...
