You'd rather stab yourself with your brush
Than paint the darkness you try to crush
You'd rather wear black than openly cry
So you won't be bothered with questions of why
Every smile you offer is lost in your memory
Because pain cannot recall what is illusory
Your broken heart would rather die
Than live with a past it cannot deny
Still we wait for you to offer us your torment
It is time you joined others who are no longer silent*



Copyright 2012. All Rights Reserved. Mark Lecuona