A morass of a wordcloud
Some days can just feel like one big sinkhole Quicksand filling one’s lungs Hands outstretched trying to grab the air droplets
Some days can just feel like one big sinkhole Quicksand filling one’s lungs Hands outstretched trying to grab the air droplets
Locked inside a tired and mired icy mind Contemplating the webbed intricacies of lies Pronouncements of grandeur do not create truths Even with a hungry devouring cadre of sweet tooth The coiled screen will no longer filter Come as you are to face the raging […]