All I ever wanted to know
was if I would find happiness
but that you wouldn't tell
"At best it's what you make of it"
wise words fill up the air
They're empty to the core
"it will be either good or bad,
depends on what you choose to do"
how could you have seen in this
so much fucking more?
Am I just blind or did you fall for an illusion?
Tarot, Tarot, please tell me, oh
what will the future bring?
Oh, flaming heart of omniscience
It's hard to understand,
that no one knows for sure
Madness consumes our hearts and souls
We're scared of what's to come
You give us false security
That we will reach serenity
One day
But that day never comes
YOU ARE READING
Shakespeare 2.0
PoetrySometimes I write poetry. Oftentimes when I'm in school. School sucks. --- well, I'm not in school anymore, but let's just ignore that
