luni, 28 august 2017


Fake it.
Fake it until you make it, that's what they say.
Maybe if I tell myself everyday
That sheep are dancing, and that they can fly
They will, eventually, and they won't let me die.
Maybe if I tell myself I'm not lonely every night
That the sheep are keeping me company
And hug pillows until I fall asleep
I will be embraced, eventually,
In my sleep, up in the sky.
And maybe if I tell myself every morning
That if I open my eyes you are there
On the other side
You will be, eventually,
And the crying of the sheep will stop
For there is, finally,

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