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    Reaching Out

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    Derric Saville
    Reaching Out Derric Saville January 11, 1984 There are four walls that surround me, as if my voice echoes through my head, it caroms off the floor, and beats me till I’m dead. I lay upon my chest, no air do I intake, my heart doth bleed for all the world, my death is not a fake. I journey far within my soul, reaching out to those in need, I scorn the blessed few, who’ve never had to bleed. Their lives are lived unerring, their mouths are taught to speak, but when it comes to caring, blessed are the meek.

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    Reaching Out

    Uploaded by

    Derric Saville
    42 views1 page
    Reaching Out Derric Saville January 11, 1984 There are four walls that surround me, as if my voice echoes through my head, it caroms off the floor, and beats me till I’m dead. I lay upon my chest, no air do I intake, my heart doth bleed for all the world, my death is not a fake. I journey far within my soul, reaching out to those in need, I scorn the blessed few, who’ve never had to bleed. Their lives are lived unerring, their mouths are taught to speak, but when it comes to caring, blessed are the meek.

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    Reaching Out Derric Saville January 11, 1984 There are four walls that surround me, as if my voice echoes through my head, it caroms off the floor, and beats me till I’m dead. I lay upon my chest, no air do I intake, my heart doth bleed for all the world, my death is not a fake. I journey far within my soul, reaching out to those in need, I scorn the blessed few, who’ve never had to bleed. Their lives are lived unerring, their mouths are taught to speak, but when it comes to caring, blessed are the meek.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOC, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
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    Download as doc, pdf, or txt
    42 views1 page

    Reaching Out

    Uploaded by

    Derric Saville
    Reaching Out Derric Saville January 11, 1984 There are four walls that surround me, as if my voice echoes through my head, it caroms off the floor, and beats me till I’m dead. I lay upon my chest, no air do I intake, my heart doth bleed for all the world, my death is not a fake. I journey far within my soul, reaching out to those in need, I scorn the blessed few, who’ve never had to bleed. Their lives are lived unerring, their mouths are taught to speak, but when it comes to caring, blessed are the meek.

    Copyright:

    © All Rights Reserved
    Download as DOC, PDF, TXT or read online from Scribd
    Flag for inappropriate content
    Download as doc, pdf, or txt
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    Reaching Out Derric Saville January 11, 1984 There are four walls that surround me, as if my voice

    echoes through my head, it caroms off the floor, and beats me till Im dead. I lay upon my chest, no air do I intake, my heart doth bleed for all the world, my death is not a fake. I journey far within my soul, reaching out to those in need, I scorn the blessed few, whove never had to bleed. Their lives are lived unerring, their mouths are taught to speak, but when it comes to caring, blessed are the meek.

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