Tuesday, 5 April 2016

New Start.

Lost it a lot
Feeling the strain not the shot,
Hands to my throat bidding to stop me
look harder at me you won't see!

Clawed and trawled till blood
Oozed and dried yet I stood,
Trying all to stand up
Pulling and straining to taste the soup

It looks dark and cold ahead
I'll use the smoulder tied to my head,
Light and fight to grow
Move and change till I grow!

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