I was strolling through life
Just trying to get a grip
Slipping further away from sanity
Hurling myself to deep despair
I knew what I wanted
Not a clue how to get it
Memories were just memories
Mistakes remained mistakes
Never did I pick myself up
Just kept throwing myself down
And instead of believing in me
I listened to the disapproving
Why don't I listen to that voice?
The little instinct inside
But now I've had enough
Of all the doors being shut
I stride towards each one of them
With wings of hope behind me
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@misslittleDHP
Writing has been my friend since a teenager...I laugh, cry, think, pretend, smile as I do it. I feel that I communicate better through my writing as in person I can appear a tad scatty.
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