I doubt that i will,
Come back from this,
To a place of heavenly bliss.

Alone in the world
With nothing to care for.
Do i ask for more?
Than you or you.
Or do you have a secret clue?

A dead world of bitter and pain.
Of loneliness and sorrow,
A life that just follows.
Do these things change?

Or does it just go on and on.
Oh what a fucking sad song.

Yet again,
You have managed to do it,
Make sure your life doesnt fit,
so you can sit,
and write.
Emotional songs.

Not a fight,
for what you want your life to be,
not a care for anything.
But your fucked up poetry.

So why does this have to be?
You ask yourself,
But as you can see,
Is you me; or is me you.
Do you get this completely?

A troubled mind.
Or a friend in need.
How ever you see this,
This is a plea.

A plea of what,
We hear you say,
As your mind gets taken away.
But yet again, who is who?
Here lets give you a clue?
Will I am me and you are you.

But can you relate,
Or is this a fickle plate
of emotion served to you.
A delicacy of raw feeling
Not just the passion of a cook
But the pain without healing
Which are stuck in our heads.

So is this poetry
Or is it plain

Is it without feeling
or is it with pain.

One thing I guess you will never know
is do emotions really show?
As you dont know me and I dont know you

So there is only one thing left to do,
and that is to tell
WHO IS WHO?

07/17/2007

Posted on 07/17/2007
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