Novead
It getting better, no! , not on myside
I buried my pains deep in my inside
You won't see head bowed in the streets
My tears are sore they ain't like sweets
But I learn to bathe myself in agony
I'm a distuned harp, I've got no symphony

You won't find me sighing like you belief
I learnt to write and write for relief
My pen might shake as I remember
The dark days counting from November
But I hold my high swinging it sideways
And you think I'm strong all days?

No! I still often fall at Golgota in tears
I sit in her memories with no fears
Of losing the...