25 February 2013
Just stringing words together Dragging them along Patching up the letters Into sentences and songs
Recycling old worn out poems Restructuring the meaning I'm at a loss, I can't convey The simplest, childish, feeling
It isn't simply writers block I've got a sense these walls Are something more i have to break Before I carry on
But as every brick is laid upon My barely breathing chest I sink into a fading world Where I can find no rest
What's Happening • Opuss № I