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Censored
September 26, 2009
Adrenaline burns my lungs
I taste the bitter-sweetness
Let me fall to my knees and cry
The burdens flowing freely down my cheeks
As the cold demeanor slips
I allow the raindrops to cascade onto my face
The thoughts racing through my mind remain untouched
Not censored
Never again censored
No twisted replica has
The same beauty as the high pure note
To be censored
To be molded into some figment of perfection
My mind, my voice
My imagination pumping life through my veins
It is all on the tip of my tongue
© Megan C., Nashville, TN
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