MY SUNSHINE

MY SUNSHINE
my sunshine my sunshine my sunshine my sunshine my sunshine

there is no sunshine my sunshine
only darkness my sunshine
the sun is gone my sunshine
what is left is not a pretty sight my sunshine
please dont leave me my sunshine
i have no desire to be left along my sunshine

they ask for my name my sunshine
they wishe my dead my sunshine
but amuse themselves by torturing me instead my sunshine
they wont let me go my sunshine
the walls are covered in blood my sunshine
the bed walked out the door my sunshine
they make me sleep on the floor my sunshine

they paid me a visit yesterday my sunshine
my shirt went crimson again my sunshine
how did i get here my sunshine
i must escape my sunshine
but will the pain ever go away my sunshine
i cant tell night from day my sunshine
they have forgotten to feed me again my sunshine

i wish i could put my toes in water one last time my sunshine
feel the wind on my sad face my sunshine
for they passed by my door today my sunshine
and i think that was their last time my sunshine
im shaking like a leaf (i think) my sunshine
it hurts now more than you could ever think my sunshine
the air is getting harder to breath my sunshine
my heart is ceasing to beat my sunshine
the sunshine has returned my sunshine
it feels warm though my body is so cold my sunshine
just darkness now my sunshine
in hell do we all belong
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# Posté le mardi 06 décembre 2005 14:03

Modifié le mercredi 07 décembre 2005 11:31

art

[
g]Art hasn't got something to do with a pen and
paperor a musical instrument, our hands and a lump of clay or the way we move and use the human body,
art is a part of who you are and is something that is hard to be taught.
It rises up from the dark depths of your soul with such power and passion that nothing else can match.It expresse itself in anyway it sees fit and is so natural and so beautiful that you cannot keep it locked up forever,
it longs to be set free for the whole wide world to see and to admire.
In all my artwork i put i little part of me in them. Some would say that you could
empty your soul into producing your own art and that is what it may feel like at times , but no. This is not entirely true for as you look upon your final piece of work, you stop and close your eyes and feel it coming to life. And it gives you soemthing in return, I'm not quite sure what but this something is like a thankyou, for creating it, which sets your soul afire making you believe that you could just,
just maybe
be
eternally blessed
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# Posté le mardi 06 décembre 2005 13:35