where's wallo

Self induced trauma and insufficient funds
the pill box is running low and so is the fun.
Daytimes are dreary and at night time I don't sleep.
instead I sit craving everything that is so bad for me.
envelopes are gone and in is the screen,
discontented soulache and miserable decisions are often seen.
My own actions my visions they're wearing me thin,
the hole that I won't fill is still caving in.
One day it won't matter these bones will be dust,
drag on drive through do as you will, not as you must.
The happy all polish idols of wood and stone,
when their breath settles I hope that they aren't alone.
this heart does change with the seasons, this body grows old,
when the black dot on the horizon reaches me I hope to have some color to hold. Those brilliant reds of love in a kiss,
the warm browns of the hills, and white mountain mists,
the greens of the trees,
the purple pink sunsets, maroon autumn leaves,
the kind in my dreams.
where I may wallow,
and rest burning feet.

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