One pinprick to keep it bleeding
One pinprick to let me know
What it is to be feeling
The price of being able to grow
A band aid for supposed healing
But the band aid's just for show.
Every drop of blood's well spent
Or at least that's what they say.
Of all the pins that came and went
None truly go away.
No pin is like another
Not two holes are the same
If I run out of space to prick
Who will I eventually blame?
No comments:
Post a Comment