I seem to sigh but all the moments bleed
I seem to sigh indeed I grow weary I grow thin This cap is bald, my voice is tin It’s not possible to think : I stared into your eyes once It is not possible to dream anymore of love Only possible to live each day for tin of paint a musical note They voice the sounds birds want to sing They take away the lock They throw away the key Still joy peeks through, how is it so? At times I am sick The stomach wants to overflow The heart seizes and the mind can’t grasp But joy peeks through, how is it so?
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AuthorThis is the chance to get to know the entire artist, painting and beyond! Here you will find poetry, stories, music and even life philosophy. Welcome to my mind! Archives
April 2024
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