My brains dead....
Life is turning lump...
Roses have pitch black petals and water droplets are turning into rose thorns....
Water comes and goes...
So does love...
Vines start falling from the high tree that no one could ever reach ...
Society sees it as a game to play...
Once you lose you piece, your done for in this unmerciful place.
YOU ARE READING
The Struggle For Air
PoésiePoems written based off of any random thoughts one may have or any situation that is difficult to explain. Enjoy!
