This shit, it gets a little heavy sometimes,
Again, I pick up this pen,
Turning my sorrows,
Into this rhyme,
I've got nothing to lose,
And nothing to prove,
So I'll just tell the truth,
These mountains I'm climbing,
Their fucking terrifying,
Traveling with this manic mind,
Carrying this restless, unsteady heart,
I'll keep this place from tearing me apart,
Not the darkness, or the cold,
Can wither my unbroken soul,
I've got too much hope,
For that sun that keeps burning gold,
Reminding me of the beauty tomorrow might hold.
1
Share
About the Creator
Skye Day
Stay at home mom. Aspiring poet, songwriter and tattoo artist.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.