Failure
(01/08/2011)
He catches dreams in struggling
minds
He extracts them into a darkened
one
Sends them back into our thoughts
Will haunt our reality and kill us
slowly
Not going crazy is more than lucky!'
Does he even exist?
It was my same question
Once, he grabbed my wrist
His grey abstract existence, only I could see
My luck has fled freely
I gave my left strength as a wimp
I could feel he writes my obituary
My hopes had turned to grim
scheme
Copyright © Dinda Minardi | Year Posted 2011
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