I Write Poetry
I'm a forgotten memory from a past you no longer care about.
A dying face that wasn't worth remembering.
My words so unimportant to you they didn't even echo,
an abandon sandcastle on some far off beach, as the waves of your indifference slowly destroy me.
An empty void floating through the darkness awaiting the return of the stars.
in this world of roses, i speak the language of thorns
A dying face that wasn't worth remembering.
My words so unimportant to you they didn't even echo,
an abandon sandcastle on some far off beach, as the waves of your indifference slowly destroy me.
An empty void floating through the darkness awaiting the return of the stars.
in this world of roses, i speak the language of thorns