Turn Chaos Into Art

Still it smells like you, my heart.
Still it feels like the end´s an endless start
Has the time more patience for whom waits the cure
Still I drink from the dirty water, thinking of the days it was just pure
Still I longer for your answers, longer than they´ll ever come
Then maybe you might be my place, my shelter, my home.
Still you seems like the only reason, of all my senseless times
A ride on happiness, as it simply goes by...
Still you´re the past that future will justify
Still is like a goodbye that never crossed my mind.



Kate Polladsky