All My Self
By Tegs
Lay sweet on the grassThe breeze playfully tickles my facethe song of peace fresh in my earsNo words of sadness does from my mouth dripThese days are overso much expectantly drained from my mindTossed back in my hands, a dissapointment for allMy eyes pointed this way and that. Not my choiceThe pain is so strongMy feet have no path, our future is bleakThe trumpet of war, endlessly shaking in my bonesNo one else sees the futility, it's tearing my soulIt's now up to meUse my tongue to tell my feelingsMy fingers dutifully record all my woesIf only others would listen, and use all they have to heal. Written October 5th, 2001 © on Oct 05 2001 02:57 PM PST 0 • 12
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"Lay sweet on the grassThe breeze playfully tickles my facethe song of peace fresh in my earsNo words of sadness does from my mouth dripThese days are overso much expectantly drained from my mindTossed back in my hands, a dissapointment for allMy eyes pointed this way and that. Not my choiceThe pain is so strongMy feet have no path, our future is bleakThe trumpet of war, endlessly shaking in my bonesNo one else sees the futility, it's tearing my soulIt's now up to meUse my tongue to tell my feelingsMy fingers dutifully record all my woesIf only others would listen, and use all they have to heal...."