Wallowing

by Ð맆îñ¥   Jan 6, 2005


Wallowing in a wasteland
Or lost out at sea
Wherever I am
No one can find me

No one ever knows
What I’ll do next
I’m unpredictable
My feelings too complex

Everything whirls past me
Time races by for those
With lives still worth it
But inside me the sinful grows

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Latest Comments

  • 19 years ago

    by Mild insomnia

    the sinful what grown, or is it like "the sinful" like a thing itself? hmmm... good poem jemma,

    emmax

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