I walk these streets, let alone dream.
In the city where fiends roam these streets.
Where my head shakes.
My sanity breaks.
My words fill these worlds like color.
But yet we still live in black in white.
I speak for others.
My brothers.
But yet no tongue.
All is lost.
Cheer up it's just a crucifiction.
I'll die speaking.
I'm a ghost.
But I'll die with the free.
State of change.
State of shame.
What a disgrace.
These streets never end.
Just like a road with no signs.
We all just wonder where we are going..
YOU ARE READING
The Meloncholy Diaries
PoetryThe Saints are misunderstood childhood friends who are seeing the world as what they want to be and through a sinners and a Christians point of view. They are all based on my creative saints. Still Ongoing though. List of the saints: Dreams Saint Ha...
