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I used to be deranged and I know this is strange,my life got rearranged,from the inside I got changed,suddenly sucess is in my range.<br></br>I'm 25 years old, yet I feel like an infantI'm known for metaphores, and this song will be no
We cry on the inside,  thinking the best thing to do is hide.  The fear of pain gets the best of us.  We justify, it's better this way but internally we make a fuss.
Skin and bones I lay dormant to you Freshly inked on your fleshwith no regretsI expose you.  Sharply defined,the darknessof my ink bleeds Your creative expression.  You chose me.
Poetry-an expressive respectable art How do I express? Where to start? Just so you know-I'm not Mozart To organize my thoughts or to be scattered Don't put one self on a a silver platter.
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