The wind keeps blowing, while life is always moving and growing,
Where do I stand in all this, I'm tired of these clenched fist,
I'm so tired of always being pissed, and I can write a list,
The never knowing, and fate never showing, is what really keeps me going,
Maybe pessimistic, anorexic, just plain sick or am I being realistic?
That's what I think, I think in my mind I'm trying to link,
Reality with fantasy, and me I'm trying to be, a little more then what you can see,
But it's hard; I want to see the future like tarot cards,
At times I feel torn, and others reborn,
Are these delusions? Or could it be confusion?
These second guesses, and endless amount of questions,
Leave a tornado of ideas, that make me feel like my life is being peeled,
My soul follows my body down the trail, to make sure I never fail,
But in due time everything happens for a reason,
And no matter what life will continue changing like the seasons,
So I should take the good with the bad, never think about the past or what I had?
But I ask is there a purpose or solution, to why I keep looking for a way to clean the pollution?
The pollution of this life that I keep choosing... |
Submission Name: I Keep Choosing...
