Some of us are born.
Some of us are made.
Sometimes I think I'm a star.
Just about to burn out.
This is how my life would end. I'd either burn or fade away.
I spent the last two years burning and now I'm fading away.
I'm tired of being a dissapointment.
I'm tired of never being enough.
I'm not afraid of dying.
I don't want to live... I'm tired of breathing.
YOU ARE READING
Can I Say Goodbye?
PoetryI'm always searching for something worth staying for but I can't seem to find that until then please don't mind me because I'm just a traveler passing through. When I'm not satisfied or happy I'll leave and find a new path, so just let me say goodby...
