I played those little ryhmes all the time,

And they always sparked my mind with laughing memories,

But all life is,

Is the memories we hold when we ponder asleep.

Funny? I say not, for when my thine heart;

Humor me not,

Escapes this graple of vines and thorns,

Maybe, just maybe, I’ll see clearly again.

Sadly I cannot grab the hands of pleading cries to save myself,

only I can step out of that hold.

But how, I think.

These cloudy eyes have seen the better, that other side of the coin.

How do I flip that coin, how can I just know it will land on Heads?

Life is all and chances,

Would I have to make that chance?

Would this empty pitiful heart take another fight.

I think so… Yet the hesitation in my voice rules the better of me.

I cant just let the voices outside my head and affection rule the happiness,

because sometimes it will only be me.

Maybe it will always be just me.




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