I am rather proud of this piece of mine, so you will comment and tell me what you think, yes?
Down into the arms of
The half-baked wit, for indeed,
Ignorance is a pleasurable thing.
Snow-angels from the
Wandering clouds, and I-
Time travelling and
Have become difficult these days.
I live slowly
Laugh s l o w l y
But-oh, it's becoming harder to breathe
I fall, fall; and I can't sleep, can't live till
the colours fade out from the world
and the nightmares
merge into reality; what is life anymore?
when my mind rots, and
rips my heart from its roots, and it
I deserve no more to hold this pen in my hand, to breathe, and I falter, falling, spinning, till-
All life seems an eternal dream these days.