Controlling another
Shows lack of control in one’s self
Missing my future
Living in the past
If no words are original
where do I stand
with lines of poetry
I hold in my hand
My poetry rings out to so many people because their just like me
A vision of you grows intensely
So it seems to me
My dreams are what’s ment to be
skittles hidden inside my chest
you tell me to hide
It’s for the best.
Not everything said
Is spoken,
Not all of my dreams
Are growing,
But lying next to you
I’m golden.
With time you lose will, with a limited range of possibilities what will do you ever have?
Finelinespoetry 