Sunday, September 19, 2010

The Right In

My friend, you are, the one who expands.
While I, sit, in cold rusting chairs,
drifting away my days of talking screens.
Please, acknowledge, respond back to me.
What you do yo me inflicts no harm,
but I can't stand the depleting supply of charm.
Dragged because of my rags, I will swallow my pride.

Jump right into the cleanness of everything that reminds you of home,
with my head underground I can bury myself in being alone.
You do what I can't, you know this, so please show it.
Common courtesy for my infected feelings,
do you have some restraint,
or will the water rise till it knocks down our gates.
My friend, the foe, you are all I have ever so sweetly know.
I can barely stand, on my own two feet.
So tell me know, that the hour glass sand
won't be the cause of death for me.

Look at yourself, you follow him with closed eyes.
Don't you see me, in last place,
I've been fighting myself in this losing race.
I won't win, I won't pass.
Watch everyone around turn to point and laugh.

If you were my friend, you wouldn't leave me behind,
but now I see your conscience isn't so kind.

No comments:

Post a Comment