It was just his time to die
Being released from his prison
Like a white pigeon with clipped wings
Suddenly remembering how to fly, he simply left
No needles into his heart could restart any of his vital functions
The decision had been made since the day of his birth
And even though he did so much with his life
It did little to dampen his awful slide
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment