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Array ( [sid] => 18941 [catid] => 1 [aid] => Mick [title] => No More [time] => 2003-06-12 14:05:00 [hometext] => [bodytext] => A million twisted thoughts
that complicate my brain.
It makes my head ache.
I don't know what to think of everything I see.
You keep entering my mind.
Things are too much to understand
for the few seconds I'm allowed to breath.
Like a carasol that won't come to a hault.
Where these words come from ...
I'll never know.
Know the dark inside
that I prefer to call home.
I don't know what to say or do,
when it comes to you.
I always mess things up.
Seems no one will comprehend with what I'm feeling inside.
It won't end,
so I pray that God will bless me,
making things better to suit my way.
How I wish things were.
A cycle that's on repeat.
I'm spinning and I want it to end.
Don't know how to be me.
Ain't it sad?
Pitty on me for being so stupid.
Won't you be my deitie?
All that come to my presence seem to die.
All the same.
Complicated,
want to comprehend,
with the thoughts I don't understand.
confusion is all I see.
I don't want to be me.
Come to an end.
I feel worthless,
got nothing to live for at times.
Why won't things come to an abrupting end?!? [comments] => 0 [counter] => 154 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Fairy [notes] => [ihome] => 1 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )

No More

Contributed by Fairy on Thursday, 12th June 2003 @ 02:05:00 PM in AEST
Topic: DarkPoetry

A million twisted thoughts
that complicate my brain.
It makes my head ache.
I don't know what to think of everything I see.
You keep entering my mind.
Things are too much to understand
for the few seconds I'm allowed to breath.
Like a carasol that won't come to a hault.
Where these words come from ...
I'll never know.
Know the dark inside
that I prefer to call home.
I don't know what to say or do,
when it comes to you.
I always mess things up.
Seems no one will comprehend with what I'm feeling inside.
It won't end,
so I pray that God will bless me,
making things better to suit my way.
How I wish things were.
A cycle that's on repeat.
I'm spinning and I want it to end.
Don't know how to be me.
Ain't it sad?
Pitty on me for being so stupid.
Won't you be my deitie?
All that come to my presence seem to die.
All the same.
Complicated,
want to comprehend,
with the thoughts I don't understand.
confusion is all I see.
I don't want to be me.
Come to an end.
I feel worthless,
got nothing to live for at times.
Why won't things come to an abrupting end?!?

Copyright © Fairy ... [ 2003-06-12 14:05:00]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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