criticism (Remove filter)
They come from far
Blind, I grown blind.
No color, no light.
Pain, I felt pain.
No matter, no gain.
Looking through the mirror glass,
things happen afar.
Taking notion of them,
as they were part.
There's no true,
there's no lie,
everything stays shy.
Scream, scream for those who can't.
Deaf, I am deaf.
No sound, no play.
Help, they need help.
...Tuesday 13th December 2016 9:25 am
Recent Comments
Auracle on EVEN THE OLIVES WERE BLEEDING
13 minutes ago
Red Brick Keshner on ashes from your urn
36 minutes ago
David RL Moore on ashes from your urn
1 hour ago
David RL Moore on War in Season
1 hour ago
Stephen Gospage on MEALS ON WHEELS
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Donkey Jacket
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on EVEN THE OLIVES WERE BLEEDING
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on IT AIN'T ME, BABE
2 hours ago
Pragya Pal on Why not
6 hours ago
TobaniNataiella on Nothing Has Changed
9 hours ago