Welcome To My World
I dance in air on top of the clouds Looking back down at all of the frowns. I walk around the high street and look at angry hearts, That are breaking to pieces from the very start.
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I dance in air on top of the clouds Looking back down at all of the frowns. I walk around the high street and look at angry hearts, That are breaking to pieces from the very start.
The mind it is. A curious place. Sending strange signals. Down to your face. Some are quite happy. They'll make you smile. The mind makes it last. Just for a while. It triggers emotions.
I can't remember. What those dreams were about. Only bits and fragments. Giving me lots of doubt. I can't remember. But I'll do my best. To tell you why. They woke me from my rest. I can't remember.
Look in the mirror. Are you happy with what you see. The reflection staring back at you. Does it portray you as free. Does it show how your feeling. Deep down inside. Are you wearing your mask again.
#nightdwellers Night time again having chats Writing stuff surrounded by cats TV's on but I'm not watching Bitten alive, skin is blotching.
My mind is like a television studio. The things I'm thinking right now, they are the shows 'On Air'.
In search of inspiration We all have it at times Writers block Then Bam.
I left it in the china shop. You know the one on fifth street. I left it there and when I went back, it wasn't there.
There's a place where I shut myself away. Laugh and cry with no worry of what others say. It's a little secret, no one knows where it is. And no one seems to notice, where I go to be missed.
#hairyarse I don't fit in a poem, I don't fit in a song, Capturing two words, Just feels a bit wrong, You can't know the Million versions of me, So it's all a bit tricky, To try make you...
Me thinks I might be a strange child, But that cannot be true. Though my family constantly tell me differently, I am from there blood so...
Sometimes I make a lot of sence and sometimes I really don't. Alot of you will try to work me out, some will but most of you wont. I am hard to understand at first my myteries are unclear at the...
#hairyarse What am I known for.
Sitting here, with pen in hand,. And book of parchment on my lap,. When all my thoughts drain out, like sand,. And all my words begin to sap,. The whole day spent, crafting these rhymes,.
F O L L E A O H R I O F W T...
#nightdwellers These shoes are all worn out. They've been so far so quick. The soles are falling off, And the tongue no longer licks. But they've seen every story, And been through every venture.
Am I different. Am I strange. Truth be told- I fear change. Is unique good. Or is it feared. I don't wish To be constantly jeered. Should I be normal. Act in different ways.
~?Didnt know what to catagorize this as...~ #whatitmeanstobe Alyssa To think constantly about things that can be ridiculously incoherent and irrelevant to the conversation subject To be a lover...
Sometimes I'll just sit in the deafening silence and think, "Is it worth it anymore. To keep putting up with this?" Because I know I could easily escape it all.
I sit here and meditate, Silently, I contemplate, Mysteries so intricate, And plots of the syndicate.
I don't know where I come from, I don't know where I'll go. I don't know when the sun will come, When the winds lunge to and fro. I don't know how to tell your tale, I truly wish I could.
Am I the hurting man, The doer of death. The one who slays thousands, With every breath. Am I the quiet man, Secretly stalking. Hiding, www scanned, Silently walking.
...something we always knew was ours. Lost, but living. Loving, yet hopeless. Knowing it hurts to wake up, and wondering why you bother to move aimlessly about your day.
We like to think our words dissipate. As fast as our breath on a chilly morn. Hanging long enough to be noticed,. And then soon departed, from us shorn. As if we were free from obligations.