Dancing beautifully,
Prancing with power.
They say it's tremendous,
To you it's getting sour.
The health of your mental is starting to cower.
Out in the center,
you're framed as pretentious.
There is no more you.
To simply pretend this.
This is not you,
and this is not right.
Your mind finds a path.
At last.
There is no more wrath.
The fight in the dog,
has started to delight
in things that are dandy.
And no longer cowers in the night.
- Author: Markthetabor ( Offline)
- Published: May 4th, 2020 02:59
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 7
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