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The Present Past
Sadness pain and more and more.Torture like at
10 and 11 many act like no breath
You know what I mean,it feeling like it not
Even in existence. Like half molded by
The skies half and half like Object never
Near awake to earth always asleep with dark dreams,
Knocking it unconscious by the second its
Brain drowning in red fluid, as days months gone
Still clock to not change. Stiffness by the cold mind
Knocking it uncomscious every teacher walks
Into it and falls asleep for it was to
Always toil in mere darkness. No relax. no
Break. No end to suffering like some cocain
It's heart made of glass to shatter 11;
It wants some warm hearts to rub off some dark but
four chapters later a certain she emerged. She began to see light.
She began to see life and purpose and freedom. More at peace,bigger numbers on paper, like Craig began to see true colours injecting calmness into the mind
Words with no heart slowly seeping into a local river and out of the mind;
but then the river consumes one whole.
But vision of years and years still to not rub off stains of horror.
Stains of horror still not dead
© Haul Guma
10 and 11 many act like no breath
You know what I mean,it feeling like it not
Even in existence. Like half molded by
The skies half and half like Object never
Near awake to earth always asleep with dark dreams,
Knocking it unconscious by the second its
Brain drowning in red fluid, as days months gone
Still clock to not change. Stiffness by the cold mind
Knocking it uncomscious every teacher walks
Into it and falls asleep for it was to
Always toil in mere darkness. No relax. no
Break. No end to suffering like some cocain
It's heart made of glass to shatter 11;
It wants some warm hearts to rub off some dark but
four chapters later a certain she emerged. She began to see light.
She began to see life and purpose and freedom. More at peace,bigger numbers on paper, like Craig began to see true colours injecting calmness into the mind
Words with no heart slowly seeping into a local river and out of the mind;
but then the river consumes one whole.
But vision of years and years still to not rub off stains of horror.
Stains of horror still not dead
© Haul Guma
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