The words I want to speak
Are twisted in my lungs
They make it hard to breath
And I can't even make a sound
I wish that I could speak
But all the madness starts to creep
And I'm sitting here in darkness
Left with not a tear to weep
YOU ARE READING
All The Little Things: a poetry book
PoetryA book of the little things I write. You will likely never find anything happy here. Some of it is rather bad. I don't claim to have a lot of knowledge or experience with the things I write about and I'd prefer if you'd refrain from commenting on my...
