Tuesday, August 24, 2010

busride writin'


People ask me why
I don't really know
Gazing at the sky
I tell them I just....go

On the surface is my smile
A mask well-worn and fake
My soul is tread-upon tile
Something I can barely take

Underneath, a raging blaze
Consuming, seeking air
Let me just count the ways
I can ignite it, under there

At the center is my hate
For myself, inferior
My endurance is my fate
For choices made, interior

krp

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