deepundergroundpoetry.com

Picked up, let down

Nothing simple and nothing sane. Worked up, let down, life's a game. Many pleasures,memories are made. Sound is the knock that comes from the door. Opening it up to find nobodys there. I travel through the currents, I hike between the valleys of death. I search to find a place of peace. One where I can rest and feast. I believe in all that you could. My brain is the master of all thats understood. Compulsive, disruptive but not without reason. My ability to retrieve what I've let slip away. Is nothing but a curse and a bunch of fucked up days. I tell those that give a damn. I'm alright, doing good and doing what I can. What they don't know won't hurt them. Unless what happens is meant to be certain. I pray to the angels that watch me stroll. I look to the sky and say, "let's roll". I don't get alot of shit. But That's alright with what's not mine to get. Another night turns to day. Another moon tells the sun, nothings better than shade. My life is the reason. The truth is what's believing. And all of us are nothing of the same. Except for being a part of the game. My love is endless, my pride is priceless. My honor and loyalty are more than you know. Nothing shaming about being the one who holds.
Written by Sweetry (Insanitys fuse)
Published
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