Wow, I'm so pathetic that I ponder about an infamous prince on stage, Who shows his audience why he's beautiful Wondering lonely along the dark pavements, looking back at my life unanble to find sympathy in others. Walking on streets, starring at birds, and finding no answers. Seeking comfort in things and habbits, yet unable to open the doors. Attempting to make poetry out of my agonies, and yet fail to achieve honesty and meaning. I get the chill when I see their smile, their arms around eachother, and I seek sympathy from the once above Resolutions on expressing boldness and courage, only sinks me deeper into the mysery, being judged and taken for granted. Recieving company and joy through the foolish generosities, and the pain from rejection and the merciless gestures Trying to discover myself through music and stories deeper I sink into them, stranger I become. And yet I know that I'm beautiful.
Reason for writing:
James Douglas Morrison, Paul simon
Myself, years of Day Dreaming, 'she' and 'they'
Birth sign: Capricorn
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