We wonder if we can truly call ourselves free men
Standing at the edge of a cliff
Just to get the taste of fresh air
Weeds of thorn and thistle consume my garden
While I become the one uproot
Been lying that there are four sides to my square
Because I can still only find three
Just gave up a little good conscience
But promised more to tomorrow
Needed a little more time to continue my dream
Or just a little less time awake
Keeping my thoughts in my pockets
And can't decide what to do with my hands
Tried belief as a form of relief
But my soul still tastes dry and light
Though the trials have been wearing
I have many illusions left to maintain
So my drawing of you remains a crumpled piece of paper on the floor
Among all my other failed attempts at discovering life
Standing at the edge of a cliff
Just to get the taste of fresh air
Weeds of thorn and thistle consume my garden
While I become the one uproot
Been lying that there are four sides to my square
Because I can still only find three
Just gave up a little good conscience
But promised more to tomorrow
Needed a little more time to continue my dream
Or just a little less time awake
Keeping my thoughts in my pockets
And can't decide what to do with my hands
Tried belief as a form of relief
But my soul still tastes dry and light
Though the trials have been wearing
I have many illusions left to maintain
So my drawing of you remains a crumpled piece of paper on the floor
Among all my other failed attempts at discovering life
i dunno if you still read your comments (also, sorry it's taken me so long to check in here again) but i wanted to say this poem is amazing. is this a poem you found or wrote?
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