Sitting in my room,
Takes up many, many hours
I can be where I want,
For as long as I want.
I can drift to Manhattan, just for a laugh.
Or sail to Paris, for reasons unknown.
I can be stuck in Autumn,
And play in the leaves.
Trapped in Summer,
With the heat on my back.
I can be without worries,
In my own little zone.
No exams, no relations, no friends...
I can hang up my mask,
If just for a minute.
And let the wounds bleed,
© Copyright 2016 EwanMac. All rights reserved.
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