P

the death of me

Almost there
I can see it coming
All these years of working
And just hanging on by a hair
You come in crashing
Swiping me off my feet
Just until I admit defeat
You throw me down, laughing
Looking down on me, picking your teeth
With the bones of my dead dreams
Youd think this whole thing was a scheme
To help put me in the ground beneath
©kayjay