All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Sell Your Soul
It’s like dying, just trying to get over the rail,
you throw all that you know to the crowd, no control,
there’s no stopping them now, they’re loud, but you only have eyes
for the curtains, the clouds.
The thrashing’s unbearable, it breaks the little faith I’ve saved for
so fine a show, then it’s back on the road,
take me with.
He crashed into the crowd just
to touch her.
I wanted under, just melt, trains retreat to hometowns
and does anyone remember who they arrived with still?
I can’t hold on until the last song, I know that now.
We walked into the sky and I,
I gave away my morals.
My friends were there to watch it, and it’s one,
two,
three,
blow.
I’ve got a problem, dare me to do nothing about it?
It’s hellishly divine to cry, no, I was not myself last night.
Swimming, sicker now than never, ever,
I recall that they, well they just played my song,
oh on and on and on,
I would’ve fallen, but the bodies held me up.
We slammed into the helpless, and now they hate us all.
My other mom, the real one, tried so hard not to try,
or so I’ve read,
and I’ll gladly take the mic, no, yes, I’ll scream what’s on my mind,
I’ve been unwell.
Panic, I’m manic,
this race is running south,
and where the hell did I go wrong?
At milestones, I know I’ll be too weak to stand,
so sit and seethe,
I left the better part of me back on the dance floor,
feet sore, feet sore and throbbing.
This rail’s my sole support, he’s more important now than ever
and the waves the cruel-intentioned make will break my guarded lungs.
I know you didn’t want to come,
but hey,
so high, we’re crawling,
in search of what I left behind,
but they just move,
they move,
they’re programmed to,
and I’m the happiest I’ve been
in comatose, be still, be stealth.
Your idea of fun is dangerous.
Count me out,
out,
out,
in,
I’m sold. I’ve sold out.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.