as I get older I'm looking over my shoulders taking each breath like a tortured soldier my world gets colder getting high off pain even though I'm sober my mind keeps calling me names so my days are just the same picking them from my brain,why do they treat me like a stolen rover 180 on fumes, an unstable rocket triggered in a room, sometimes I wish I knew the moon,just like in the afternoon when I just sit around waiting for a flower to bloom,I know I'll die someday because in the dark I can't play so my soul gets darker everyday....
©kamoy13
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