My Writing
Desperate acts of conviction for the paper Obscure minds churning ideas Hopes of acceptance for my prosper Without shame or remorse from scrible Blurbs spill and opinions rumble without fear Truth tells from depth of black corners Mischievous tales blessed in unrestricted borders Lies held tightly and secured by the plane Points traced from beginning to end Walking the lines I stumble in my sickness Trembling closer to sanity with hesitaion to believe Only this way I can say that I am almost free Believe this object in every word it speels From beginning to ends it tends to reveal Truth be told I feel sick on the mind The silent response nulled to each ilk Finally hearing the peck of my pen Stinging my heart with it's endless revenge Lost in the spacey shadow of the writings Once so poetic now so frightening01-21-2002, Written April 20th, 2002 © on Apr 20 2002 07:54 AM PST 0 • 9
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"Desperate acts of conviction for the paper..."