Something To Speak; Somethign To Yourn
I seek for something I cannot recover.
A love I want; but will not have.
I seek for summer, the wild flowers and the times before night and day.
I miss one thing; and cry alone.
I seek for my soul.
I long for winter nights by the fire.
I have made a choice; but want to go back.
I long for the taste of skin on mine.
I see green and wish to stay
I long for my crippled heart back.
Save for the pain
I feel nothing but thee cultural espects
Of which I have been reenered a ‘ratard’ to adapt to
Excuse the vulgar language, unpolitical terms of regarding
Some with far less than I,
Save for the sunshine
I feel but warm only in thee rain
For which falls continiously on its side
Another failed attempt to cunsume
A hatered that should be used to better myself
Save for the feathers
I feel but weightless in the midist of the dormit addiction
Another somthered darling doomed to a hellfire pergetory
around the time of her beatings
Another demon she could surely handle well
Save for the men and their affections
I feel empty but unimportant in a world
Conserned with which it is indeed churning
Grant me thy final resting place
I shall rest with my world, in peace.