The Exiled
I see myself as the exiled
He who writes in the solitude of his room observing life from a distance
wondering how life might feel in the midst of people’s warmth
yet he's bound to the silence of lonesome stride
writing about feelings that are never destined to be his
dreaming to be the poem for once...
He who writes in the solitude of his room observing life from a distance
wondering how life might feel in the midst of people’s warmth
yet he's bound to the silence of lonesome stride
writing about feelings that are never destined to be his
dreaming to be the poem for once...