Beware The Bottled Thoughts Of Angry Young Men

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Sleep deprived.

I've always excelled at
Clinging to nothing
Whilst hoping for something
Stupidly dreaming
About why my hearts beating

Don't place too much weight on
Frail words or it'll break them
The slightest sound
Near hibernating dreams
Is all it takes to wake them

From slumbers deeper
Then deaths cold embrace
Whence reality hits
It sends tears down my face

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