Common said if heaven had a height you would be that tall... By Not even reaching the sky could erase the feelings of being small... The feelings of not having it all, the space that encompasses it all... Procrastination becomes a destination, motivation becomes stagnation and plans becomes imagination... But after all, I'm a work in progress
I can't stop stopping to digress can't stop hoping I'll hope less...
Can't stop hoping that I could dream again, that life would turn into a abundance stream again... That I'll be myself again, but all I had to do was pretend... That I'll feel love again, that I could love within, that I could forgive my sin... That compassion would finally win...
That maybe I can change my life again... If Only I could stop being a work in progress, and pick up my pen...