Fixed behind shallow blue eyes lies my raveled demise. Cigarette smoke burns my eye as I turn to lying to myself about the lives of others and their fire of life. Where has my fire gone? Where does it burn?
Maybe my life needs to make a new turn so I learn what the path less traveled causes me to earn. Something new, something I yearn... beyond my abilities.
But in this facility I've lost reality and all my dreams will stay as dreams if I cease to seek the way. Maybe another day, when the sway of grass turns the other cheek. Maybe then I could fulfill the scenery that calls for more greenery and sunshine.
What can I call mine when most of me is mimed and timed just right to make it seem like I believe all the recycled things that have been thrown at me?
They say write what you know so I picture the slow row of night inching towards daylight and how the songs of longing love teach me a lesson of what can glow.. I write of sadness and madness but never of happiness.
Where has my fire gone? Where is my perfect song? In life I'll search for who I am and what I can, but in the end I'll see what I've bent and turn over the time I've spent and become filled with guilty regrets.