Keep on truckin
You create nothing but destruction
Nothing of value
Putrefied pontification
Of what you think is best for the nation
Wasting your life on hate
Rather than focusing on being great
Life is too short
To care that much about the small things
The little choices
People make for themselves
To delve into their lives
To decide who gets husbands
And who gets wives
Worst of all
Is believing your own lies
But not seeing that you’ve fallen in to your own trap
It’s a wrap
You can’t even standby
What you said last time
Memories faded
Into a thousand streams
Bleeding constantly into our dreams
Of the future
That will never come
If you keep beating that drum
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Trouble at the Tea Leafing Café
The rain had started right around the time that Annie was buttering her second thick slice of homemade toast for breakfast, and hadn’t paused since. Not that anyone could tell. The windows of the café were fogged over, and with every seat filled with happy customers munching on fresh baked pastries or steaming bowls of the delicious soup of the day, it was hardly surprising. Annie looked around the room, finally taking a moment to breathe after the lunch time rush. Her old life already felt like a bad memory, a part of her history, always, but just that. History.
By Hannah Moore7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Well said, my friend.