Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
This Skin
The grey clouds are cutting
Jagged edges in the sky
And even the white clouds were
Punctured by the sharp clouds.
So now the rain falls
To help me be cleansed of this sadness
And the rain is hesitantly
Falling down but I'm feeling good
With this powerful wind
Tossing my curls about.
I wanna jog till my lungs explode;
Until I've no more breath to draw,
Till I lay face down in a puddle
Of dead feelings.
Will my real friends please stand up
And drag me back to better times?
This should be my moment to shine,
But I've lent it to someone
People will appreciate more.
I don't remember being important,
Just a puddle of dead feelings;
Just this skin which
Holds up emotional baggage.
April 19, 2004
Suge
Jagged edges in the sky
And even the white clouds were
Punctured by the sharp clouds.
So now the rain falls
To help me be cleansed of this sadness
And the rain is hesitantly
Falling down but I'm feeling good
With this powerful wind
Tossing my curls about.
I wanna jog till my lungs explode;
Until I've no more breath to draw,
Till I lay face down in a puddle
Of dead feelings.
Will my real friends please stand up
And drag me back to better times?
This should be my moment to shine,
But I've lent it to someone
People will appreciate more.
I don't remember being important,
Just a puddle of dead feelings;
Just this skin which
Holds up emotional baggage.
April 19, 2004
Suge
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
This Skin
This Skin
