The Rush of Life
Palak Verma
Walking on grey paths As if nothing really matters Broken hearts healed Lost lost, and was found again... Moments, days, years overturned Pages and nothing really mattered. People went, people came Some laughs, we pretend But nothing ever made life special Was it hate? A vile of poison... Life went on... Nothing breaks, Nothing makes... And then one day it's all gone As if nothing ever mattered... Before you realize in a matter of time In life, it's madness Killed inside by sadness Before you could take away all hate, Life is done, and it's all over, Talk, maybe you save someone... To live a little while longer...
2019-01-26 19:59:59
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Madison Tyler
Interestin
Відповісти
2019-01-28 10:01:39
1
Palak Verma
@Madison Tyler thanks
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2019-01-28 15:45:47
Подобається
alvahmara
@Madison Tyler yep
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2019-02-08 10:54:59
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Question 1?/Вопрос 1?
shadowlinxxx morgan
The girl that questions everything,is a girl that needs many answers.She wanders the earth trying to find the person that can answer her many queries.Everthing she writes has a hidden question that makes her heart ache and her head hurt.She spends days writing sad story's that she forgets her sad life.Shes in a painful story that never ends,she's in a story that writes itself.The pages in the book were filled ever so easy,because her heart wrote it for her.She spent her life being afraid,that's what made it so boring.Finding her passion was easy,but fulfilling it was the hardest part of all.Her writing may be boring and sad,but it's what keeps her sane. "She had all the questions in the word,and he had all the answers." Lillian xx
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"Письмо ушедших дней"
Позитивна Морквинка ( &Не Мілашка ;)
Привет , мой милый друг Забыл ли ты, как долго не писала , Прости ,но я хотела отпустить Всю слабостью ,что в себе искала . И может ты проник Моим письмом до дрожи Забыл ли мой дневник , Увиденный стихами одинокой ночи ... Об памяти прошедших дней , Ты не увидишь ни души порока Лишь слабый шепот чувств Уложенных строками тонко . Немой вопрос в глазах Оставлю с времям на последок Легонько холодом касаний уходя , Чтоб не запомнил запах пепла.
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