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Shirokuma
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A Cloud Painted
No preasure, No thoughts
Other than the ocean celing
Constantly hanging above
Like the snow falling down
Colapsing into fragments of memories
Shattering the ground
From the bottom off the ocean
Iv'e painted a cloud
Something to hide for myself
Something no one can ever tie
And they all stop by to tell me
How tierd I look, how worn down I am
So whats the point?
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My broken bed
Staring for hours
Holding my breath
Collapsing under the weight of regret
In silence, I sleep
There is no one here but me
Like snow, falling down
Drowning in thoughts
Holding me down
Cold as lies
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