magnificent
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i'll admit it.
sometimes
it's hard to make
me happy.
when my brain is
working so hard
to keep my spirits down
pumping chemicals i
know shouldn't be there
The more dirt you throw on top of a forgotten beauty,
The more difficult it becomes to find.
Because then it gradually changes,
Disguised by the rotting filth that scuffs out it's light,
The stars; so far yet so near.
Though impossible, I can feel their soft whispers through the night.
Rippling in my ear, each has a story to tell,
A story of the beginning, the now, and the end.
