The darkness that surounds me
Is getting thinker year by year
And if I cant find who I am, It never will be clear
Because I give it two months, before I'm gone for good
Dont come looking for me, not into this grave I've dug
It'll be deep deep in the ground
Below the grass and trees
Far enough not to hear all my screams
And atop that turned earth, sits a little shack
Because I'll always be beneath my secrets
The past just isnt the past, it's pressure is killing me
YOU ARE READING
Just A Troubled Mind Looking For Peace
PoetryA collection of lyrically inclined phrases that have popped into my head over the years. ~B.A.L.K Much love. Hard love.
