How I try to find
a meaning in the masses.
When I was young the
world was new.

When age became tender,
I was sick of it all.
The world has become
more destructive
and I wanted to be
part of something
grand.

Time goes on and
dreams become stale
with bitter tears.
Love becomes foreign
like lands I'll
never see.

When I grew a little
older life became a bore.
The dream's lust has
become more tragic
then a waisted youth.

All that I can be
is all that drives
me mad.

Sadly and dearly
I write the tragic
ballad of a long
lost life.

04/13/2006

Posted on 04/13/2006
Copyright © 2025 Christopher Shin