I always have to wonder, what's going on in that head.
Why things work out the way they do.
The summer that seemed so promising,
is ending so dark.
That job that was supposed to carry on,
ended with a bang.
and not the good kind.
guess I learned never to work for a corp.
That heart of mine,
that I tried not to mess with,
that I tried to let free in the shores of the beach,
shackled itself and tore me down.
The only promise that still holds true,
is the soft murmuring of the sewing machine,
going back and forth and around
the gentle folds of cotton.
maybe I'll learn.
maybe I'll change,
but I doubt it.
The summer that was supposed to be.
Is ending with a crash.
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