although i walk through the valley of death,
i can't help but hold onto what i have left.
modes of the thought that has made my legs move.
odes to the wrought, the damaged, the blues.
and though i might wander
through darkest of hours,
i can't help but notice
i'm still living large.
i can't help but hold onto what i have left.
modes of the thought that has made my legs move.
odes to the wrought, the damaged, the blues.
and though i might wander
through darkest of hours,
i can't help but notice
i'm still living large.
VIEW 14 of 14 COMMENTS
isetfires:
bettietwoguns:
hi. i miss you. come back. thanks.