It’s premature to think you’ve got me,
Though I’m weakened and pitiful,
Trashing around, like a wounded animal,
One second from bitting off my foot.
It’s my life and my choosing,
When you see me bleeding, caught in a trap,
Instead of gloating, you should be asking –
Is there a chance I wanted it to end, like that?
Music | Literature | People.
Alternative haven for the Daily Post's mourners!
The official bulletin of the artist IMPREINT created to repost excerpts from 'En plein air'.
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Tips to make your daily life easier!
Sailing through emotions, letting them flow out as words, I'm charting the waters of life and writing as I venture.
Aren't songs of grief lullabies to the lost?
A Healthy Lifestyle
Follow the Journey...
One thought on “Sorry, not sorry”