fight till the death
I hate writing as much as I love it.
Struggling with words a all-out war.
Victory is a pipe dream, I mourn the lost words.
Regrets’ as many as unfulfilled dreams .
I no longer care about both.
Exhausted but never giving up, I love the struggle.
The hate makes me feel alive.
The struggle a embrace that I cherish.
Defeat turned turned into a empty victory.
Nothing makes sense I write , I love the madness .
Struggling with words a all-out war.
Victory is a pipe dream, I mourn the lost words.
Regrets’ as many as unfulfilled dreams .
I no longer care about both.
Exhausted but never giving up, I love the struggle.
The hate makes me feel alive.
The struggle a embrace that I cherish.
Defeat turned turned into a empty victory.
Nothing makes sense I write , I love the madness .
Reacties op dit gedicht
| teun hoek: | Vrijdag, april 29, 2016 11:42 |
| goed om het woordensppel eigen te maken. Veel genoegdoening hierbij in engels of ned. th |
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Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: eigen stijl | 
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| Gecontroleerd door: christina | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 29 april 2016 | ||
| Thema's: | ||