C. Ping About Me Page at Helium

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Lost souls: 38 of 159

Dropped Ball Walking backwards straight into walls, soon come tripping, ya you gonna fall. Now look, you done dropped the ball. At it again just like before, searching the dark trying to score. No such luck at this deadly game, this soulful demise is such a shame. Wasteful, hateful a bucket full of lies, you see beauty where there are maggots and flies. Rotten, ill gotten, you soon be forgotten, just a shadow of what you once were. A shade, you fade, back to unsure forgetting ones and oneself are holy and pure. Down you go, deep deep in a hole. Burying yourself is not this lif...
More..