Depression is repression,
You make me open up my doors,
A beautiful conflict presides inside,
A whirlwind thatâs now yours.
So sorry to say,
Contradicting issues mucks up my mind,
Anger blinded crusade,
For innocence, Iâll never find.
Donât let me fall,
Into me,
Donât let me fail,
My own damned legacy.
A demon keeps glancing through the cracks,
My soul exposed to the other side,
A freak-train went through town,
You figured youâd catch a ride.
Search inside the dust window bay,
And look upon what you will find,
Draw the curtain crooked boy,
Step inside an artistâs mind.
© Karla Botha
Excerpt form the book âI Have A Nameâ
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Categories: Anthology

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