Poezja

I feel like i'm slipping,
i'm loosing my grip,
like i''m holding a rope,
that someone might -clip-.

I can't keep struggling,
to hold on to a dream,
and that's all this is,
and it's rushing downstream.

It doesn't matter,
how hard i try,
or even if,
you see me cry.

Because i've lost my grip,
fallen over the edge,
and for all that you know,
I'm already dead.