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There is silent in childs wound...

Asking myself what have I done wrong today,
Searching for reason why should I tell them sorry
And for what and for who should I stay…
Why should I stay in this box of fear
And why I don`t see any other way…
Is it too far or maybe just too near.
I`m trying to understand what has been so wrong…
But their shouting is louder that my thoughts.
Only thing I can is write it down, like a song.
I have no need to show them my grievous face
Couse nothing wont help them to understand
How I`m scared and alone, thinking I`m disgrace.
But I don`t even have to hide my tears which are breaking
Couse they are blinded and blinded they will stay…
Like I`m blinded to- I`ve never seen my waking.
This is dream … I have a broken sleep
It`s making me mad…
I can`t wake up… and It reminds me,
I`ll never feel somehow but sad.
Maybe I can put smile on and ignore this nightmare,
But inside there will always be utopian roar
Ending nothing but tragedy.
Now, they may see me like a vagrant, rigid and weary.
But they don`t hear childs weeping tune which is wilting slowly
Same as unwise voices. Sometimes they are scary.
Oh, but I`m still thinking…there must be something I`ve done wrong today
Couse they are shouting still
And there is unrest in words which they say.
Oh, plenty of words… I can`t recognise their meaning
Am I foult… Have I done something bad or wrong…
They are always wining.
Time is runing… Im too slow for it…
I`m growing up…but still I am just a child…
And shouting has never stopped…
Now I`m asking my rusty toy,
While waiting for silent to come,
What is like to fell a joy.
No answer comes and no other choice I have…
I`ve done nothing today…
But still I`ll be punished.
Couse I`m winded…There`s no other way…
Without smile I`ll stay here when they leave this room.
Their voices will shouting still
And nothing but wound they`ll become.
They`ll close this door
And I`ll be thinking how beautifull silent is coming…
Knowing how spirit of mine is week…too week to kill,
But too hurted to ignore and to fell.
There are plenty of ones which are dead…
Plenty of ones which are alive…
But only one is half of both- me.
You might try… but you won`t understand…
Don`t bother… You`ll forget it tomorrow, you`ll see…
Like I`ve forgot to shoot my head.
And they`ve forgot to do the same.
And there is no other way… Wound they will become.
Here comes silent.
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Evo, dobih malo inspiracije na engleskom :)... Nije baš nešto...gramatika me hebe, ali okej... Who cares... (Np. Metallica- So what)
Preživjela sam ovaj tjedan. I za čudo, sve je bilo relativno okej... Sljedeći tjedan bude gore :D...
Danas navećer idem u kazalište... Ana Karenjina. Moglo bi i to biti dobro. Nadam se da bude... Zanimljivo bar. Discman, nešto za jesti, nešto za piti... Da, bude dobro u kazalištu...i do kazališta...i poslije kazališta... (yeah, sure)
Trebala sam si sad kosu ofarbati... nije mi se dalo... neda mi se. Već imam tu boju tjedan dana...ali, neda mi se ništ...
Oh well... toplo je vani, sunce and stuff... A kome bi se dalo nešto raditi?
Neda mi se trenutno niti više bulazniti. :)
Čitamo se...
I evo vam još jedna sljikica. Ide uz pjesmu ili kaj je to već gore napisano :)

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Post je objavljen 15.04.2005. u 16:35 sati.