It could be my thoughts,
Don’t know what they cost,
My life or my goal,
They swallow me whole.
The thinking keeps me cold,
Far away from gold,
Buried inside my bones.
The lost one roams,
In search for a home.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
It could be my thoughts,
Don’t know what they cost,
My life or my goal,
They swallow me whole.
The thinking keeps me cold,
Far away from gold,
Buried inside my bones.
The lost one roams,
In search for a home.