The dehydrated working class poet. Not afraid to admit I'm wrong. Just hard being wrong for so long.
Wednesday, 5 March 2014
back were i started at...
Losing battle winning war,
the disappointment that keeps on giving.
The little things and every sliver lining has a cloud.
While everyday leaves you a little less,
a weekend away with no sun. late nights, red lights and the need to need someone
I like dancein on tables and gettin drunk, drunk enought to fall and stumble, to know im lost and feel its ok to mumble. time takes to long so im tryin to express how i feel. but the question is always there is any of this real?
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