Wednesday, 25 September 2013

The permanent uphill battle.

It never ends. 
Constant, steady and still. 
A mirage if you will, against a cold repelling hill. 

I stagger, I stumble and fall. 
Never once will I ever stand tall. 
I can't cry out not call, for the fear of my vulnerability and pain. 

What if I could fly? 
Would I make it somehow up higher? To a better more welcoming environment I plead. I beg. I cry instead as I fade into the night. I'll never be alright. 
And this life will always and forever be a constant fight. 

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