Why does the soul
Find it hard to breath
Late at night
When there's nothing seen
And why does the heart
Hurt so much
Early in the morning
Before you clear the dust
And why do the lungs
Burn deep like fire
In the late afternoon
Filled with selfish desire
And why does the mind
Just think to much
All day long
To hurt to touch
YOU ARE READING
Bedtime Poetry
PoetryPoetry that describes the things I can't put into simpler words.
