Until Midnight
31 July, 2000
Author: Mental
When i cry
i cry for good
i'm a huddled mass
from where i once stood.
i try to regain
but in dismay
i tried in vain.
when in the dark
i realize
a special kind of spark
it doesn't burn
it doesn't light
i feel okay
until midnight.
that's when shadows start to linger
and voices come to my head
some say to stay alive
some say you're dead.
whatever they say
i'm still in despair
can't you feel the heaviness,
lingering in the air ?
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Comments on this poem/writing:
rage (172.56.5.45) -- Wednesday, November 5 2014, 04:28 am I to have lingering thoughts, always there with me. |
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