Dad
My dad is sick and now is alone
he is battling sickness and battling death
his voice is weary and he begins to drone
as he staggers to take his breath.
He’s never touched drugs never once in his life
yet he comes off pale and fragile at best
a breath stressed and full of strife
a physically draining and exhausting test.
His spine is curved and pitched in by his neck
leaving him hunched like an old man
his legs atrified and arm strength are a wreck
He says “this isn’t who i am”.
His spine is twisting and times running out now
as the curtain falls the dramatic end is near
his soul has already seemed to take a bow
he has given up i fear.
Probably not
I walk with the shadows cold and lonely,
Thinking to myself; if only if only ,
I walk with movements dredged and slow,
Because for a while I realized: I’ve nowhere to go.
I look around carefully and look real close,
These are the people who think they can boast?
They show care for the pretty for they have the power,
And time for the speedy because it takes lest an hour.
But they how not love for lost little souls,
They fall into sadness like damp deepened holes.
Many say these souls, well they ought to be sought .
Will this be put into action?
probably not.
Me
Curvy and tall dark haired and pale medditeranean features I like whiskey and ale I paint for no reason no reason at all and I like boys who like pale skin dark hair and all
