Goddammit I blame it on memories
for making me grow weak
I've taken what's safe and sound
I carry it with shaky knees
Wife's having the day old mold
I get tired of making eyes
Life's losing its graces
No more time for sacrifice
I used to be wary of wearing colors
for seeing eyes
too much left to cover
as I grew in size
But now I wear crimson red and
pthallo blue, I just don't change the bed
as often as I used to.
No forward sort of happiness
just a weak remembrance
of passing days with the world
gone by
I once knew who we came to kiss
But now whenever I see
All that's in front of the mirror
is weak
I pound my ashes
hate deep in dust
grab in fear of
all that withers
that is so plain to see
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