Ever Down
Second hand love, second hand trust. First hand knowledge of the ever unjust. Wanting a simple peace within the clammer of days, yet finding naught but a stress ridden haze. Too much to ask? Not giving enough? What is it that keeps me drowning in this rough. Not like a diamond, not like a gem, but pressure bound and hanging on by a limb. Yet trudge on I shall, one foot then the next, praying I'll make it through the rest.
Key Words : Hardship, life, wanting, sadness, hopelessness
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