Against the World
by the way,
im stranded here,
with fishing line,
and a growing fear,
of being left,
when all goes right,
of seeking answers,
through endless night,
by the way,
they told you lies,
and the pretty thing,
with wings now dies,
all alone,
in the cold,
against the world,
feeling bold.
Copyright © Jezabella Singe | Year Posted 2012
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