Het rijmt niet, en is ook niet mooi. Heb er niet eens over nagedacht. Maar het is gewoon alles wat net in me opkwam, hoe ik me voelde..
Where should I start and how should I end
Thousand open wounds are the reason for this poem
That’s the first thing I want to tell
And the mess in my head grows with every
Word I manage to write down
What the fuck have I said
And why the hell did I keep things in
It’s not like me, guess I’ve lost myself
And I pretend to feel better by
Enlarging this mess on paper
What did I do wrong and is there even
A part of me that’s right
Cause everytime I’m sure there is, and something
Blows that feeling away until I am
A little drop of rain again
My head is home to so many doubts
And when questions are about to be
Answered, somebody sucks the answers away
And now all I got is some fucking words on paper
But it’s just the way I feel right now
[ bericht aangepast op 26 april 2011 - 18:02 ]
Destiny is what you're supposed to do. Fate is what kicks you in the ass to make you do it.
