six_past_six

Can the given ever be overidden;
By whats been told
Or whats be bought?
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How is it that,
When a leg has been given;
All it tends to do,
is step on your back.
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Impressions lie;
While emotions lay,
Inside the sheets our hands they play.
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We creep into, away from all
Those who push us,
As we fall.
Look around to see what's left.
Is it the things been taught,
Or things been bought?
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What values more;
Than all these words,
That keep you safe;
And move you forwards.
.
.
Is it a gift that can't be given?
.
.
Wishing into whats been written,
Cheek is bleeding;
Tongue I've bitten.
Not just mine,
But hers' as well;
Whispering secrets always tell.
The truth exposed;
For who we are;
I am the sky that keeps the star.
.
.
Night all, my lil' elf awaits.