Terrifting space, these walls
They called the demon to reason
This time of treason is my busy season
I try to revive this tired way of doing
I think the cow in me is mooing
Its time to put me out to pasture
Will I make it to the rapture?
Or capture a faster way of getting it done?
The morning warning brings a rising gun
It all sounds the same, this chain of words
What happened to originality?
Did it die with practicality?
Or did worry take its place?
The laughing demon has my face
I am pressed by this depression
A man once said
That man is stressed
That man is dead
Please interpret my reality
Comments
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I'm glad you died.
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Don't die, Pj!!!
I second Cassie.
::hugs::
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and as always, Pj, i love your works. and i miss ya, phil
-Cassie
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