Book Of Stuff

47

I actually wrote a poem :')

I used to wake up ever morning, saying
"I'm blessed to see another day"
But now every morning I wake up I dread the fact I'm still alive
Some say, "that lively spirit that use to dance around the room
Has died out, and you only hear the voice of a broken life"
'Some say' are the voices in my head. Because nobody will notice
how broken you are until it's too late.