Slithering

CATEGORY

just different

Butterflies are made behind

Closed doors

Go inside and close yours

No one can see what we

Go through

Inside

It takes time

To fly

We must dry our

Weeping eyes

Tears are for those who cry

How can we believe

In rainbows

When everything is

In black and white

Though the stories

Been told

There’s no

Yellow brick road

In the ghetto

The flag is false

It’s a farce

Lost in the forest

Looking for

Arsalan

King of the jungle

Euphoria

The thread is

Never ending

It’s so hard

To get through

The eye

Pricked

Without a thimble

To cushion the blow

Stars on the ground

Selling their souls

For a million pounds

30 pieces of silver

30 pieces of gold

Nothing on this earth

Is worth

Hell below

The time is

It’s too late

To slip up

Tripped up

By a snake

I already ate