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Literature Text
Sitting in my field of dust,
It starts to rain, and I start to rust.
Crying crumbs of despair,
Of how my life is in disrepair.
Dreams once of my field of gold,
Memories lost, tattered, old.
Paint the picture of the sun up high,
Pretend I'm here, reality's the lie.
It starts to rain, and I start to rust.
Crying crumbs of despair,
Of how my life is in disrepair.
Dreams once of my field of gold,
Memories lost, tattered, old.
Paint the picture of the sun up high,
Pretend I'm here, reality's the lie.
10/10/12 My mind wanders again...
© 2012 - 2024 c-r-o-f-t
Comments2
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Love this so much, thank you for sharing.
“Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
“Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?”
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows