Breathe

13

For weeks my account balance has failed to grow beyond it hundred, My dreams constantly beaten down by the pangs of my fears, Sometimes I wonder why I'm here But it seems I can't leave Because I'm not the Maker of my own breathe. My heart has been shattered for long Broken into pieces I can't regroup But tomorrow I'll be on the road again Looking for the daily bread to feed my broken soul. I can boldly tell you I'm no longer sad Cos it seems i've gone little bit deeper than that My pen only bleeds tales of melancholy And my mouth graciously sings the rhythm of dirge I don't want to tag my life as a walking lie I'm scared, downtrodden, frustrated, halpless, don't know what else to do, But I'll keeping a smiling face, because I'm too familiar with how to lose.

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