Once it was so ******* easy to connect. We drifted as stranger's. And now I a relic. Stands part of something long forgotten.
Fueled by ego now drown in rejection they all leave you eventually. Friends are nothing more than accidents waiting to happen I need only the critic to tell me I'm wrong to know something still is done right.
A theater of my thoughts tattered in a part of town long since overlooked by others stands all the same as I still remain.
My pages worn beaten exist with as much passion as they did so long ago.
Fruits of my labor now rotten none wish to consume. **** what you know! For even I cannot understand whom I truly am. Trace the lines there still mine just the same .
I listened to the fools laughter at my expense thinking I have lost what we never choose to behold. The sleeping dog simply waits for the chase worth while than runs to do something simply to spend time.
I never left I simply waited .
Time choses the fate and I simply fill in the blanks.