Words have this magic,
of making you feel safe.
When all you can feel
is hollow and empty.
I just can’t give it a name, To these thoughts that I pen. I guess sometimes its better To leave them unsaid.
Words have this magic,
of making you feel safe.
When all you can feel
is hollow and empty.
It is so true what they say.
That Death and Taxes are
the only things one can
be sure of.
I once thought that I
could deny them.
But I fall in line.
I just hate it!
Not being in control,
of the one thing I
thought I had.
Every trip is an
opportunity wasted.
To never come back.
When you race through
life, even a small break
can seem long.
Hiding in anonymity,
living a slow death.
All that remains is
flesh, bone and drudgery.
Waiting all the time,
For the one moment
Which will bring back
the glory of the past
It had to end,
The way it did.
It was because of
The way it started.
The best words are
left unsaid, the best
friends are left behind.
While the pain fades away,
The memories last forever.