A verse of stories, short and long.
And when I cry, And search the sky, And want to die, I don't know why. Can't you help, Oh, don't you know? I don't belong, There above or here below. Stuck right here, The middle it seems. Where they go, To die, the dreams. So, lonely is as lonely does, Living life, just because.
If we were having coffee, I would welcome you to this late #WeekendCoffeeShare post and tell you how grateful I am that Alli leaves the link open past what we would normally consider the weekend. (Whew, I got 56 minutes to post! Aghh!)
I hope that you are all doing well out there. Yes, I’m a bit late this week, but that’s okay. Life is busy, and would we really want it any other way. It seems sometimes, listening to others (and talking ourselves) that that is exactly what we want, but I doubt it really is. Sure, some time to relax and maybe write would often be nice, but if I wasn’t so busy, then wouldn’t that mean that my life was somehow lacking?
