Pentimento Tribulations
There was a time when I thought the world was my imagination.
Passive, yet knowing all along that I was wrong
and that I'd end up buried in a memory.
But these times, they are changing, into what we don't know.
It's not about holding on. It's about letting go.
So then why am I not willing to give up?
I'm not willing to give up.
How innocent can I be when I'm deteriorating, descending, and pretending
to have everything even though our young souls are filled with fleeting feelings
that we can't control?
