I'm sitting here on a bench,
Feeling like a tired old wrench.
No one understands the things I've become,
Because no one cares of my years to come.

I cry and weep to the sound of fun
Because my eyes, my life, hasn't been one.
I feel foolish and tricked by my closeted bricks,
But in reality, my mind is full of tricks.

You try and progress through all this mess.
You think good thoughts but you can only do your best.

I walk down this old cement road and all I can think is what can I caress?
Hopefully someone will give me a ring and soon enough I will be put to rest.

But it's never as simple as you think.
The future may hold a beautiful blink.

I will never be afraid to show you how I sink
But I would rather show you how I will be one of your links....