Monday, July 20, 2009

Worned out paintings

I've always had this dream that I was no longer at the bottom, with my heart being stepped upon unnoticed. No longer was I suppressing the anger that rages within me. And no longer was I alone, standing beneath the wilting sky, praying with all means that life would turn for the better.

I would be here standing, but I will still fall. I would run the longest mile, but I will still tire. I would soar upon the highest cloud and still get lost.

Because I'm still human, living on this land like everybody else.
But my intentions mistaken, my unselfish state stepped on. And I wish so hard that There would always be someone to hold me up.

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