I could be anything and more
but I am only fool, I'm sore.
And every chance I kindly waste
for failure I prefer to taste.
All opportunities I screw
believing in my saviour - you.
Not knowing if it's worth or not
I scare away each slightest thought.
The thought of me being complete,
fulfilling dreams I don't admit.
For I would like to risk and wait
while other people start to hate.
I can't decide for who and why
I should be caring. So I try
to stick to what I feel the most
living a life of my own ghost.
Without you I am incomplete,
with time I only must compete.
And patience is my only friend
when I have fears for love to end.
Panic
© Copyright: Костя Касьянов, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113101305981
Свидетельство о публикации №113101305981
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