I was born,
Happiness flooded my life
The oceans drowned the sorrows
Nothing special, Nothing simple
My mind was fresh clay,
Ready for moulding
Under your wings,
I could fly so high
But high was never high enough
Days became,
For counting...
And the weekends a necessity
The first three members
Of the alphabet family
Became,
For taking
I want to kill you,
Friend
Like a dark and gloomy alleyway
I could take you by surprise,
So confident that I bring to refuge
From the cold harsh and bordom
Where the warm fumes
-will intoxicate you
Into a better reality
For your life,
Means nothing...