What makes a person complete?
What makes life discrete?
Somebody tell me...
Somebody help me...
Somebody save me...
Can somebody let me?
The shallowness i feel,
wounds that never heal...
scars left to memorize,
myself to be symphatized.
What is it that mends?
A life that seems too bent..
A cry that sees no feelings,
A rain that comes no ending.
A little bit of enduring...
thinking for overshadowing,
What inside still s remaining?
Why do i feel the lingering...
Does it vary?
Will it burry?
and Why do I hurry?
if i am not in a hurry?
Where do I belong?
Will this last long?
Feel like I'm alone..
Despite the world has it's home.
