quicksand slows my hands
makes me stand,
against all odds
what are my odds against these times
clocks, words and ryhmes
what can i do?
i must make up my mind
against all odds
feeling scared, ashamed and impaired
what can i do?
all my life, i've been so scared
to go out and thrive
to live my life,
against all odds
what can i do?
the fear it settles of being compared
to those I've judged
I'm just rotting, waiting, infiltrating
my head with the dead
what can I do?
... but just wait for the four horsemen.
About Me
- madalyyyn
- Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourselves. Choose your future. Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life. I chose somethin' else. And the reasons? There are no reasons.
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