I wouldn’t mind disappearing right now… All my hopes, all my trials, my heart, my mind… everything….. just disappear
I need no rescuing. I rescue myself (if such services are needed)
For my greater days
Who shall be crowned the grand optimist of retreated words and searching hearts?
I shall!!
I shall rise above this ego-ed earth and bask in the hope of laughter.
I shall fight to my grave… this mass grave of shattered hopes
and hope that i keep living to see the next sun set,
or look back and laugh at life’s humor, how me and death first met.
I shall lay a white rose for every tear i have and will cry,
and a red for my greater days.
But I cant help but wonder,
how many blood I must offer to that of a Milken rose??
There are nights I stare at the moon and imagine the sun
