Lame poem.
Tittle: 'Lame poem'
Author: mireya_11
Pairing: H/W
Rating: none
Summary: Somehow Wilson manages to mix his feelings and some vodka.
Note: This is such a lame poem. I'm so sorry. But thought someone might find it at least inspiriting. Not for the fact of being this good (cause obviously it's not, specially the last line) but cause, I think, the idea (the main idea) is a good one. Sorry, just feeling weird today. Couldn't see Sherlock Holmes 2 on-line... I'm so sad.
Disclaimer: *crazy-face* They are... M I N E ! *coughs* Well... uhmm *runs*
Sometimes you just want to go free.
To let go.
To live.
And then you realize there's something grabbing you.
There's something that keeps you from escaping.
Something that keeps you from leaving.
A thing that keeps you from living.
This is a reason to slow down.
It's the reason that forces you to stay.
It's your reason to maintain your sanity.
It's the only reason to behave.
But this reason has a brain,
has it's own blue windows,
and it's own two legs...
This reason has a name,
the keys to your apartment,
a drastic like for pain,
and your heart inside a chain.