Little somethings

Because the days are shorter than the nights i grow quiet,

Because the cold achs my body i grow mean,

Because you look so intensly at her i grow fire from withen,

I never had a bad thought for your kind until i let you in

So i study, and i study again

The mind of a soul creepin from deep withen

I noted all of the nothings and till this day, I never put them into somethings to save the hatred for all things

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: