So tired of the same things,
Similarities of heart,
Pain is a repetitive action.
Certain options turn into constants,
Scars just stain your arm,
Chained to reality is the most painful realization.
To get high off anything,
Is an easy way to another dimension,
Transfer my pain onto another,
Then take it back to heal them,
Everything moving slowly.
Voices, echoes, silence,
Death, rebirth, revealing,
Truth, passion, pain,
Memories, known, unknown,
Suicide, and rush.
They aren't just play list,
They are a story,
My story of depression.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry : A King's Poverty
PoetryA description of a king is almost defined by the way there Kingdom is perceive "Perfect" Nobody knows that, the ruler of the Land wears two crowns with two different coronation, One crown is for his might, the other is the side he never shows. As yo...
