Sunday, February 22, 2009

To pull myself out of the whole world seems a little hard to accomplish.
When there is a need to 'move on' it seems the world is at a stand still.
Pushing myself to the wall seems to be the outlet.
When i finally did ,in my own dare say, move-ed on . . .
The feelings erupted over and over again eventhough i tried to allay it.
It is then that i concur to the notion of living in the present, by the past.
What o' what do the great one wants from me?
I'm just a filthy young being at your service.
Please, point me a direction that is not shaped in a circle again.
Or worse, a dead-black dead end.
What have become of me?
Nobody knows.
Not even me.

Labels: , , ,

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home