Poetry: Rhythmic Therapy |
Life's pace has been a blinding haze
As my memories don't reflect no childhood craze...
Her... me
Her... me...
A confused image of sentiment
Locked away in subconsience's domain...
Confined in the abyss of emotion
I walk blindly in the darkness of sentiment...
What am i doing?
I stare at myself,wondering...
Are you only as good as your worst mistake? |
We make mistakes .....to make better ones |
So much thought, so much compromise |