up or down
we fall and blame the direction
its all the same once dissected
they stopped the rain so they could measure
all the problems painted by our pleasures
if not through pain then what are you suggesting
we grow from
if no sun shone over my prose my ink'd stay frozen
no matter what light you've chosen
I don't want to be golden
got a shirt with some holes in the shoulders
where I keep the broken pieces of my hope
I hold them not knowing
but knowing that His love is holy
and my heart is holey, He fills me up wholly
it's nothing I could show you
I barely understand myself
I barely understand myself
No comments:
Post a Comment