The higher I float, the more disappointed I am when my feet hit the ground again.
The more I tell myself I'm losing, the more my brain fights back, "I'll win!"
The longer I let these lies run my thoughts, the happier I am for a while,
but the happier I allow myself to become, the more depressed I am after the long miles.
The closer I keep it in vision, the less I let myself explore the rest of life.
The faster I watch it take me over, the more I become unknown due to strife.
The sooner I see it , the less the wound will seem to sting,
yet the less I inch toward it, the farther I'll be from this mess that seems to be running things.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
