a road to cross
I built a road to cross
an infinite road of hope
and commonness
at the end of the road
there’s me waiting
the other me
an egotistical self born of pain
I expect certain things to happen
I predict my intelligence will wither
when I cross
and reach the other side
I expect someone to tell me to stop
like someone always does
when I cross
I predict I will find a scar
inside of me
and smile
others will be able to hear
my steps into vertigo
my collapse
the irony of it all
and when I cross
I know what I will find
pointing a gun at my face:
my future.
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário