I'll pack you.
I'll pack you right away, hidden under the dust, hidden under the bed.
I'll forget about you.
Or I'll attempt too.

I almost forgot about you, and then went looking.
Under the bed.

There's a reason your under the bed.
It means your close but out of sight. Out of my sight.
You're the reminder of pain, you're the reminder of happier times.
A time which is blurred, filled with lies.

Your suitcase, why is it empty?

How could I forget about you dear suitcase, I choke when I find you.
Dust of the past invades my lungs, a taste of stale, a smell of fear.

I'm afraid to move you back under the bed.
You just stare at me.
Zipped up tight; you won't reveal any secrets to me.
Your the magican and I'm the audience

I already know all your secrets Mr. Magican...

Sir, Sir, are you ready?

Because I am the suitcase of Pain.
And I'm ready to board now.

Oh disappointment dad, how you haven't changed.
You are still guttless and horribly deranged.
Faces have aged and we are all wise.
Disappointment dad, you cram yourself with empty lies.

Oh disappointment dad, you claim to work so hard.
Forgetting the world, you say you have becomed scarred.
But the ones who are scarred are the ones cleaning your mess.
Selfish and blind, your words of woe fill us with protest.

Oh disappointment dad, can't you listen to the world.
Your life is ever so more becoming twirled
I can leave through the door at any moment, and wouldn't care.
Oh disappointment, why don't you show me you still have a pair.

Excuses will only get you so far disappointment dad,
And truthfully less I see you, it makes me glad
Maybe one day you won't forget about me,
Maybe one day you'll chnage and be free.

However realism is my gifted teacher
And it has taught me about people like you; the preacher.
I can accept you'll always be singleminded
But Disappointment Dad; I refuse become blinded.

Pour my heart into oblivion
And carress everything I hold dear.

I patiently wait for the miracle makers
To come find me.

You preach to me father,
But your words are just whispers in the wind.

Salvation, repent, believe,
These are the words which hold no meaning.

You still preach in vain attempt,
I am the human soul, drowning in sickly sin.

Father, I don't think you understand,
I am content, for every soul is like mine, temptation and life to sweet to ignore.

Dear Father, forgive me for I have sinned,
I am human, and mistakes are all I make, none I regret.

The old soul surprises us all.
In that faint glimpse of something, something we can't quite figure out.
The old soul.
Persistent yet beautiful
Surprises us all.

The old soul is battered and torn in ways, we can't quite understand.
Time it seems is against us
The hour-glass, the sands, the small specs have slipped through our fingertips
It is cancerous, the biological clock, tick tock, tick tock.
The old soul; she is weak

Yet we judge the old soul.
Appearances are decieving, personalities are changed when pushed.
Pushed beyond the limits of our minds.
The cracks hidden in our faces show are real intentions.
Yet the old soul, knows nothing of evil.

I am envious of the old soul.
For she has lived life as pure as one can be.
Living life as one would see fit, not forced, not tamed.
Brusied and tested for the years.
Old Soul has lived life her way.
Free and uncontrolled.

The Old Soul
You are true
and I cannot shake how envious I am of you.
You are beautiful and one can desire to be like you.

She’s all grown up now.
Maybe one day she’ll spread her wings and fly.
Or maybe, her feet will stay firmly on the ground.
Destiny has a secret plans for her.

Ones we'll never know.

I'll keep dreaming,
while you keep believing.
But that's okay.
As long as I'm with you,
I'll keep dreaming.