The ****
muttered under breaths
of exasperation
is the language that you speak.
your life has become a series, unanswered
questions, curses, solitude.
you walk from dead end
to dead
end
crossing dark roads in between
as cars shine yellow eyes behind you
your shadow shrinking
swallowed by your footsteps
disappears
with the red taillights
fading into the distance
you are
lonely
yet
want to be
alone
you're angry,
angrily searching
for peace.
smoke rises from your parted lips
trembling
forming the lyrics
of that last rock record
it probably sold millions
your pain and frustration
caught in it
yet still
no one understands.
Aug 12, 2011
Aug 12, 2011 at 5:54 AM UTC
The ****
muttered under breaths
of exasperation
is the language that you speak.
your life has become a series, unanswered
questions, curses, solitude.
you walk from dead end
to dead
end
crossing dark roads in between
as cars shine yellow eyes behind you
your shadow shrinking
swallowed by your footsteps
disappears
with the red taillights
fading into the distance
you are
lonely
yet
want to be
alone
you're angry,
angrily searching
for peace.
smoke rises from your parted lips
trembling
forming the lyrics
of that last rock record
it probably sold millions
your pain and frustration
caught in it
yet still
no one understands.
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