|
back to poem list
|
next poem, previous poem
|
Stress |
8/9/2012
|
There's always a certain level of stress that begins with any mess. When more is never less. I am the font never regular but big and bold. I am the young still that will never grow old. A certain level of pain can conquer any hopes of success. I feel the threshold that was already told. I feel the heat rising that was once cold. Something I can never caress.
|
|
|
|
|
[use > to go next and < to go previous. tab and shift+tab can also be used]
Copyright © Mirrorglassball 2009-2024
|
|