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The clock ticking
Time drifting away
Trapped in a work place, wondering
wondering when is the end of this day.
It's like an eternity, I have no choice but to stay.
Tic... Toc... Tic.... Toc...
What a nostalgic sound.
Wet floor, rusting lock,
Blood Dripping on the ground
There is boredom all around.
As the time of resting came
At least I was a little bit happy.
At my head, I say this job is lame.
Whatever I do, my life's still the same.
Entering my room,
Dropping dead on the floor.
Flowers, they bloom.
But my Body... it's sore.
Hiding in my shell, waiting for my doom.
Crawling to bed, as i leave drops of blood.
Looking onto my head, it's wired.
Laughing endlessly on my bed,
I don't care, i don't cry. Im Just Tired..
-End-
- by LordKiston |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 04/12/2009 |
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![](https://graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/arena-images/ic_paper_corner_32x32.gif)
- Title: Tired
- Artist: LordKiston
- Description: A poem about a very slothful youth. An exaggerated one too.
- Date: 04/12/2009
- Tags: tired
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