when we went to ourselves, we quickly became themselves through a number of dusty shaking words exploding in our dynamite minds, turning and twisting, slowly becoming what they had always wanted from us; themselves
if i could write a page about you would you read it if you could write a noval about them, would you give it to them? if they took it would they read it themselves? or would they just throw it all away?
When people talk about themselves they don’t think what the other person is listening to they just want to hear what they think is right about them. Best thing to do one should avoid talking to about themselves and listen to others.
They never thought of anything, but themselves. Like animals who try to hold the last bit of peace they haven’t been taken away from. They hold eachother like they would be drowing. Holding themsleves, holding the last piece of live they still have.
They think they know about themselves,
How and why they act the way they do.
But the only one who knows about themselves,
Is the reflection in the mirror,
And he can’t say a word.
people think of themselves way more than they think of others. our society is so stuck up and selfish sometimes. i wish more people could forget about themselves a little more and use that energy helping others :) just a thought for the day
Themselves, alone and sad
and sick.
Themselves, who else is there gonna be?
Keep waiting and trying, you’ll never find a friend.
Stay alone,
Safe and wait ’til you find yourself.
I hate it when people think just for themselves. It is selfish and I believe that every one should look out for each other. The world would be a better place for everyone.
They were lost to themselves. Happily trapped in their own little world, that no one else had permission to enter. It was there’s and there’s alone and they had no intention to ever leave. Keeping each other company until the world was over and everyone else had turned to dust.
when we went to ourselves, we quickly became themselves through a number of dusty shaking words exploding in our dynamite minds, turning and twisting, slowly becoming what they had always wanted from us; themselves
if i could write a page about you would you read it if you could write a noval about them, would you give it to them? if they took it would they read it themselves? or would they just throw it all away?
When people talk about themselves they don’t think what the other person is listening to they just want to hear what they think is right about them. Best thing to do one should avoid talking to about themselves and listen to others.
They never thought of anything, but themselves. Like animals who try to hold the last bit of peace they haven’t been taken away from. They hold eachother like they would be drowing. Holding themsleves, holding the last piece of live they still have.
them
selves
their
selves
on a shelve
serves
ser
thunder
shame them
it’s their loss
They think they know about themselves,
How and why they act the way they do.
But the only one who knows about themselves,
Is the reflection in the mirror,
And he can’t say a word.
people think of themselves way more than they think of others. our society is so stuck up and selfish sometimes. i wish more people could forget about themselves a little more and use that energy helping others :) just a thought for the day
Themselves, alone and sad
and sick.
Themselves, who else is there gonna be?
Keep waiting and trying, you’ll never find a friend.
Stay alone,
Safe and wait ’til you find yourself.
those kids down the block hit themselves with bats.
I hate it when people think just for themselves. It is selfish and I believe that every one should look out for each other. The world would be a better place for everyone.
They were lost to themselves. Happily trapped in their own little world, that no one else had permission to enter. It was there’s and there’s alone and they had no intention to ever leave. Keeping each other company until the world was over and everyone else had turned to dust.
themsleves alone
searching the darkness
of parkings
lights of buildings shine outside
make promises for a embrace
Everything they did was like that. Themselves. Never one. Never me. Just them. Themselves. Alone.