Hiding behind a bold face,is a pale heart.
The leaves grow weary,and so does hope. Behind the walls, lust and hate ventures. The glowing rays of winning fading away. Light to dark is the current lifestyle. Across the streets,call them the walking dead. Innocent faces, but guilty souls. The hands are like the chameleon on a leaf. His fate is pinned to the mystery under his mask. The letters sealed with his blood. His story will just be a fable told to the richkids,to make them sleep. His past is an open book,and a bitter truth to feed his future. He writes to keep his smile alive,but his pen is now out of ink. When you see his pale face,don't fear him, he is living his true life.
©Alexander'sMindKE
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