Frankness Of The Pressthroated Person - Lyrics by V-I-P-S-


Lyrics
It's my arm and it's my beauteful eye
My compassion and my running sing
On and on I hear the noise inside me
I think to keep it or not to keep
I was born with a beast, with a hole.
Soul is hole
Enemy lives by my body
He steals my happiness
I don't belong to me
Blackness... Whiteness
Black pale on the fate
Blister...
Fortune...
Shadow...
Pickles...
Wind.
Take him away from me
Enemy lives by my body
He steals my happiness
I don't belong to me
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace