i think nearly all poets have atleast once touched upon the subject of growing up. This one's about a friend and me. It's about trying to hang onto being a kid, and about letting go.
ur a stranger- emo and lame
but we're both stuck in a terrible game.
toughing it out; pretending we're fine
behind the curtains, we're hanging by a line
wound round our necks, it chokes but we
laugh and just talk about cookies
and pretzels, and silly things
we put aside our misgivings
and laugh it off, and act cool
ur the drama, im the fool
and once our silly rants are done,
turn back to reality, our masquerades begun
our smiles erased, return to hell
and crawl back inside our shell.
No comments:
Post a Comment