The fight
For years I have fought,
against every single thought,
that threatens to destroy me
this fight won’t set me free.
I’m stuck in a never ending battle,
always hearing the rattle
of a venomous idea
what am I doing here?
Fighting with everything I've got
I am slowly killing myself
Death by my poisonous head
all hope is collecting dust on the shelf
I think I've been misled
Told to fight
for what is right
yet now I see
how pointless it can be
I can’t beat my toughest adversary
I can’t be free,
as long as I am me
against every single thought,
that threatens to destroy me
this fight won’t set me free.
I’m stuck in a never ending battle,
always hearing the rattle
of a venomous idea
what am I doing here?
Fighting with everything I've got
I am slowly killing myself
Death by my poisonous head
all hope is collecting dust on the shelf
I think I've been misled
Told to fight
for what is right
yet now I see
how pointless it can be
I can’t beat my toughest adversary
I can’t be free,
as long as I am me
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Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: Wesley Pieterse | 
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| Gecontroleerd door: pantarhei | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 27 april 2014 | ||
| Thema's: | ||