where we write it

Roads

.

I’m not loving life,  because it didn’t love back.

Sick of traveling roads, they all have no ends and leave me lost.

Sick of saying ‘I’,  but I’m still saying I.

Sick of no one caring,  am I allowed to complain?

Always nervous, I can’t remember the last time laughing.

Reality everyday, when can I smile.

Time is still ticking, memories and breathes passing.

Should I sing or write to make them less awful?

Suddenly, I have no emotions. I don’t know if it’s awesome.

Living moments of ungrateful talk, and disrespectful silence.

Just go by, dear life as long as you’re going to go by.  I’m forced to be, forced to feel.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s