all those that runoffall these things rundownall the slowly runover where can i runbacktowhen everyone is the samekind of escapeefrom a life filled withall the runaways
don’t you yet knowthose that have builtentire futureson a whisper,those who will tell you not what cannot be donebut what will be for those whodon’t know youyet
it was summerand there was music everywhereand everyone was youngespecially the oldwho, graced by everlasting light,learned how to step againinto a dance that all naturally knowbut most spend their lifepretending not tofor isn’t it too loudmy hearing isn’t what it used to beand don’t get me started onthe wobble of my legs
what ifyou decide to see itthat there is joy everywhereincluding therein your empty handwhere you once askedwhat if what if what if
another morning wherethe light arrived early my feet found the floorsomewhere a bird sung aboutthe bold unbecoming that it takesto go on again and again before i wokethere were a million thingsthat went without notice join themjoin the chorus that singsyou can do no wrongfor everything is rightwhere it must be
what remainswhen no one does when you are alonewhen it is deep into the nightwhen you walk into an usually busy metro stationthat tonight is empty and yet the trainsstill weep through the citynot knowing how to doanything else who are youwhen you are convincedyou are nothing and who are youwhen you feel you are … Continue reading
the wound willnever wear but somehowyou went on somehowdespite the worst oddsyou learnt tolove this littlelife
it is truethat terrible things tick onand it is hard to writeabout beauty nowadays but i firmly believethat the world will be savedby those who notice the lovein everythingincluding all that is unlovedand has gottenso false
am i doomedto the borders of almost i am the childbut not the favouritei am the friendbut not the best i am like the waterin the vase,supporting life,reflecting the sun,but it is the flowersyou reach forfirst
answer me this is the memorya thingthat i haveor onlywhat ihave lost