The World.
Looking outside the window
however there's nothing to see
there's no beauty.
Driving trough the woods
this is where you can breath
you feel the wind on your face
the raindrops on the leaves
the sun on your arm.
When did we lost our way
to what is right?
Why did we started fighting
instead of talking?
Can we turn it around again?
Did violence always existed?
Is there a way to go back?
The start
lays in our hands.
however there's nothing to see
there's no beauty.
Driving trough the woods
this is where you can breath
you feel the wind on your face
the raindrops on the leaves
the sun on your arm.
When did we lost our way
to what is right?
Why did we started fighting
instead of talking?
Can we turn it around again?
Did violence always existed?
Is there a way to go back?
The start
lays in our hands.
Reacties op dit gedicht
| Just*mi: | Dinsdag, juli 27, 2010 10:40 |
| Ik weet ''t al we have to do is put our lovin handz out-there..where? weet je we will figure it out..we juzt have 2 it just has 3... | |
Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: illusionist | 
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| Gecontroleerd door: maria | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 26 juli 2010 | ||
| Thema's: | ||