Creative what?
I whipped this off on my way home from GRCC. I never said I was any good...
9 North
There's not much to smile about
not in a city like this.
It's colorful
but feels so grey
I can't help but feel something's amiss.
In this place,
people read the lines written on your face.
The wind blows colder
as we look over our shoulders,
to put to rest out misguided fears
As we pace dead-end streets
so no one else sees
One another soaked in their very own tears.
But it's just like crying in the rain you know...
so the dew drops of sorrow on your face won't show.
Just hide it, force yourself to believe
that it's okay.
So that we can all pretend
we have the strength for one more day.