I use to make sense

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


Slipping away
Just waiting for the days
To come to an end at last
There is no cure
For this sickness with in
So in brevity is how I live
I use to make sense
Of why it's come to this 
But now there are no more questions
Finding the only answer is death
And I'm not afraid anymore
By now I've had enough
Of all the painful stuff
That was meant to save me
All it's done is stretch out my time
Of something I use to call life

Submitted: May 15, 2015

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