Репост из: Dead pen 🖋️
Every fall no longer breaks me
like an old clock with scratches,
I may tick slowly,
but I never stop.
I stumble but rise again,
like a paper plane in the wind,
I may fall,
but I keep flying.
In a place where even close ones don’t listen,
how can I ask the world to care?
But that’s okay
I’ve learned to stand on my own.
I’ve been broken like a pencil,
but I sharpen myself each time,
ready to write again.
It’s not about being unbreakable,
but about always finding a way to stand again
~Thoughtless
like an old clock with scratches,
I may tick slowly,
but I never stop.
I stumble but rise again,
like a paper plane in the wind,
I may fall,
but I keep flying.
In a place where even close ones don’t listen,
how can I ask the world to care?
But that’s okay
I’ve learned to stand on my own.
I’ve been broken like a pencil,
but I sharpen myself each time,
ready to write again.
It’s not about being unbreakable,
but about always finding a way to stand again
~Thoughtless