Poems from Zombieale
I'm high in the skyFloating up like a featherDown is not a choice
Handsare used as toolsto create beautyor to fix
Handsare also weaponsthey are destructionand of pain
HandsYou choosewhat to use them for...
There are memories that I wish would fade,Memories that to this day, I'm still afraid.They give you the talk and expect you to know,And...