the swing of a troubled mind

Is it through the flame that I walks in peace?
hm ..if so I never notice

The rage, anger and madness season a life                
Sometimes soft as a feather;
sometimes like a knife

The poor manic is she
one who lets her mood wriggle free

now don’t you sigh
let's have a cup of coffee; to satisfy                          
Is it a poisonous cup?
Let me drink every single drop

With hopes and less care
 not aware

Promised no rose garden
I beg your pardon

The reflection smiles at me
looking into the mirror
to like what I see

No bonds and ties
comfortably numb
I've never been wise.

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Anonymous said...

At times as sharp as a knife ?

Othersideblue said...



The blades are so sharp, they even may hurt others awfully if am not as watchful as i should B .

Delirious said...

I like your shoes. :)