No title
the eyes of the world are staring
following my every move
everybody's scrutinising
judging the roads that i choose
the eyes of the world never see me
i'm hiding behind a cracked mask
they only see what i show them
nobody bothers to ask
sometimes my hurt spills all over
nobody knows what to do
somewhere within i am dying
sometimes, i dont get to choose.
Andy N
Mon 20th Jun 2011 08:18
love it, kath.. another excellent piece.
one little thing perhaps on the last line you may want to add an even 'sometimes i don't even get to choose' as i am wondering whether it needs the extra word.
otherwise, keep em coming x